Broken
by Woman-of-the-night
Summary: Depression as a nasty thing. Mix it with grief, guilt and abuse, it was enough to drive anyone crazy. Stiles was on the verge of losing his mind; barely coping as it was. What happens when an unexpected person steps up to give him a hand?. Mature audiences only! UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Thoughts**

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><p>He stared.<p>

Red.

Dark.

Dripping.

He stared at the blood flowing from the gashes.

This was nothing new.

The stinging from the cuts was an old pain. Pain he was familiar with, pain he enjoyed, pain he looked forward to every night.

He continued to stare at the blood dripping, fascinated.

He knew he had to stop the bleeding, but he couldn't bring himself to do it…just yet.

Eventually he did pick up the towel next to the sink and wrapped it around his wrist. He hid the blade as usual and walked into his bedroom and laid down.

He'd been doing this since his mother died;his best friend gone.

His dad? He turned into an abusive drunk on the weekends; which was why Stiles was barely home.

His best friend? Clueless as fuck. This has been going on for years, and he never asked; not about the scars, not about the bruises, not about anything.

Sure, now he could understand if his friend didn't pay attention to him. He was a fucking _werewolf _now_._ But now, not only did he get abused by his father, but his best friend too. Scott couldn't control himself. He tried to kill him numerous times already. And Stiles wished more than once that he succeeded. He was always trying to help Scott anyways; immersing himself in books and websites and for what? To be pushed around? Everything he did was just never good enough. Scott never appreciated his efforts.

With the new girl in town, Scott was even more distant; leaving Stiles alone.

He was dizzy, the thoughts and emotions swirling around his head, getting to be too much for the highschooler. He removed the towel from his mutilated wrist and noticed the bleeding had stopped. Chucking the towel into his closest, he turned around to face the picture of the one person he could always count on, his mother.

As per usual he whispered his love to her before huddling in his bed, a lone tear escaping his eye, before sleep over took the secretly broken boy.

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><p>Remembering my past brought this idea to my mind.<p>

I feel like Stiles is one of the boys in the show, though he acts happy and all he is really hurting.

I am not really sure where to go with this yet so ideas are welcomed.

There will be more to come soon!

To the readers of My Mate more will soon come mostly likely tomorrow or the day after!

Review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Finding out the Truth.**

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><p>It was Saturday and only a few days prior Derek had gotten shot with wolfs bane and Stiles hadn't heard from him or Scott since.<p>

Currently, he was resting in his car, not wanting to go home knowing the beating he was going to get. It was little past five meaning his father would be wasted by now. He had been driving around town all day, going to library, going to the park, he texted Scott seeing if he could go over only to get the expected response that he was busy with Allison again. He has been sitting an empty parking lot for the last two hours. He was doing anything and everything he could to waste time. By now he had nothing left he could do. He knew it was time to go home.

Slamming the steering wheel in frustration, in anger, in despair, he started the car and drove off to the hell he was forced to call home. Parking in his driveway he stayed in his jeep a while longer, observing the house, preparing himself mentally. The house was dark; it used to seem as if it glowed, full of life, when his mother had been around. Now the house was dead. It had a dark aura around it. Sighing, he got out of the car.

He crept into the house as quietly as possible, glad that the door didn't creek when he opened it.

He turned around to shut the door, when he felt a large hand grab the back of his shirt, he shut his eyes knowing what was to come. The hand pulled him back and threw him on the floor, landing on his back. The breath was knocked out of him, but Stiles didn't dare move for he knew if he did it would only make things worse.

He looked up at the man that was supposed to protect him. He was still in his cop uniform, swaying slightly from left to right, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The older man put the bottle down and pointed at his son.

"Where the HELL have you been all day, you ungrateful brat?" he screamed out, speech slurred. Stiles flinched and stuttered out a response.

"N-no-nowhere, dad. " The answer earned him a kick to his side. Stiles rolled over, this kick was harder than the other ones he has received. He gritted his teeth, willing himself not to make a sound.

"Don't lie to me!" his father roared above him, kicking him right in the stomach. The force of the kick lifted stiles in the air. Coughing, he tried to speak.

"I was just driving around town. I swear Dad!" Stiles panted out, hoping the beatings would end soon.

His father reached down and dragged the boy up by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to stand up, and punched him right in the jaw.

Stiles collapsed on the floor, tears forming, and spit out the rusty tasting blood from his mouth.

"You aren't to leave this house ever again! Got it?" his dad continued to scream at him.

Barely able to speak, Stiles just nodded, he was still desperately trying got catch his breath.

"You will answer me when I talk to you!" the drunk man bellowed, not giving the teenager time to answer before kicking him in the stomach several more times. Pulling him up again, he looked at the teen straight in the eyes.

"This is your entire fault" he accused. "Say it! Admit it!" he screeched.

"My fault…all my fault…" stiles wheezed out coughing up blood from the force of the blows to the stomach he had just received, the red liquid he had become so familiar with dripping from the side of his mouth.

"Dang right it is." The sheriff said before throwing him to the nearest wall, and walking to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

His head was spinning from the impact it made against the wall. Stiles remained on the floor; the pain that seared through his body not allowing him to move. He wheezed every breath. Pushing himself to a sitting position, he wiped the blood from his mouth, and resting his head against the wall. Flashes of the time Stiles had first told Scott of his suspicions that Scott was a werewolf came into his head.

'_Stiles felt as Scott fisted the front of his shirt and pushed him to the nearest wall. Yelling at him to give him his phone back, Stiles winced, fear entering every fiber of his being. A natural reaction to what Stiles assumed his best friend would do. When Scott let him go and left the room. He snaked to floor, crying. Why him?'_

A couple of tears did escape from his closed eyes; tears of hate for his father, tears of hate for himself, tears of despair, tears of sheer hopelessness.

He picked himself up, groaning at the pain the flared at the slightest movement he made, and went to the kitchen to get a towel. He kneeled down and cleaned up the blood he had spat out, threw it in the dirty clothes hamper, and put the whiskey away.

He made his way painfully slow up the stairs and went to his father's room and opened the door.

He sprawled across the bed, breathing deeply; Stiles sighed and walked into the room.

He removed the policeman's shoes, but was too tired, too out of it, to try and make the man comfortable. He closed the door with a small click and went into his bedroom.

Shutting the door, he pressed his back against it, sliding onto the floor. He wrapped his arms around his knees and cried. He wrapped his hands around his head and just continued to sob. He wished he could scream, wouldn't dare in fear of awakening the sheriff.

His heart was breaking, his soul was dark. Standing up, he took in a shuddering breath, before turning on the lights of his room, jumping in surprise when he saw the figure of a man in the opposite side of the room. He would know that body anywhere.

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><p>Derek had come in hopes of catching Stiles and being able to thank him for saving his life a few days ago. He saw the jeep absent from the Stilinski driveway and figured he would wait till Stiles arrived. Climbing through the window, he landed gracefully into the room of the talkative and annoying teen.<p>

He took in the room and decided it fit the teen perfectly. Sniffing he caught the scent of alcohol and heard the heartbeat of the boy's father downstairs, he also thought he smelt a faint scent of blood, but he wasn't sure. He sat down on a chair in the dark room waiting. He heard Stiles car pull up and he heard him entering the house. He sat up a little straighter when the young male's heart sped up incredibly fast. Then he heard what sounded like a body hitting the floor hard. He heard all of the beating that took place under him. He was growling, eyes the brightest shade of blue, anger invading him.

He wanted to go and defend the high-schooler, wanted to defend what was his. He hated that he couldn't. The wolf inside him almost taking over, howling, demanding that the man harming Stiles be killed.

His growls lessened when he heard the cop retreating to his bedroom and focused on hearing what Stiles was doing downstairs. He heard the slow footsteps of the teen as he passed his room and went into the sheriff's and then came back. He watched as the teen came into the room and slid onto the floor, crying his heart out. The wolf within the gray eyed man whimpered in agony of the pain their unknowing mate was suffering.

He felt sympathy and compassion for the teen. He felt similar despair on a nightly basis even since the bitch from the Argents burned his family, and then not long after, his sister died too. She was his rock, the thing that kept him stable. Now he was alone, no family, no pack leader, no nothing. He was forced to live his life alone filled with hate, depression, grief and guilt plaguing his every thought.

When the teen turned the lights on, Derek saw him visibly jump before calming down slightly.

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><p>Derek didn't let him speak, his voice though somewhat soft was still demanding and gruff.<p>

"How long has this been going on?" Stiles noticeably paled.

"W-what are you talking about Derek?" Stiles stuttered. He had always hoped that someone would take notice of what was going on, mostly Scott, but he never wanted nor had he imagined that the person that would find out would be Derek Hale.

"I heard everything Stiles, I smell the blood, and I can see the bruise forming where you father hit you! Now answer the damn question!" he practically growled out. Stiles looked around the room. He couldn't tell him the truth. Yes, he had always wanted someone to help him, but now that someone knew it made his horrible life seem that much more real. Now faced with the reality of confessing that his father was an abusive drunk, he preferred to keep dealing with it himself.

Derek saw what Stiles was planning to do and ran forward just when Stiles had opened the door and made a dash outside. He grabbed the smaller male's wrist and dragged him back into the room. Stiles had almost made it out of the doorway of his room when he felt Derek's warm hand grab on to his marred wrist causing him to hiss out in pain. Once Derek had him back in the room, blocking the doorway, he lifted the boy's wrist to see what had caused him to hiss. That's when he froze.

The pale wrist was covered in scars, same faded, same healing, some an angry red showing they were no more then a day or two old. He grabbed the brunette's other wrist and found it to be in the same condition. He let them go.

He looked down at the boy in front of him; he was crying cradling his wrists.

"Please just go…" Stiles murmured; he didn't lift his head. He didn't want to see the older man's disgust and pity. Derek fighting his own whirlwind of emotions obeyed the boy's orders and climbed through the window.

Stiles stayed sobbing on floor. He cursed his luck. Why Derek? Why couldn't it be Scott that would find out? He was his best friend!

He crawled into his bed, too tired from the emotional breakdown he was facing, and to hurt from the physical wounds his father inflicted on him.

Stiles reached, grabbed his mother's picture, hugging it to his chest. He cried and cried until he eventually blacked out from the emotional and physical strain that was placed on his body.

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><p><strong>Poor Stiles ! :(<strong>

**So right now I just finished watching the season finale!**

**I hope Derek doesn't turn into this crazy alpha like his uncle.**

**I don't want him and Scott to be enemies. **

**Review and give your opinions on the finale!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 +4 will be based on Episode 8: Lunatic, so there will be direct quotes or similar lines.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters.**

**Chapter Three**

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><p>The past few days have been…stressful for Stiles.<p>

Two days ago, on the day of Parent-Teacher Conferences, Stiles didn't even see Scott all day. Apparently he had decided to skip school with Allison. Not only that but then Stiles had to go and check on a traumatized Lydia, who was also M.I.A, as a result of an attack of the alpha her and Jackson were part of. He found a video clip she had managed to catch on her phone of said alpha. No sure on what to do, he took her phone and repeatingly called Scott. Since Scott never had answered any of his calls, he eventually deleted the video.

That same night, his father beat him again because he was not doing so hot in school. However, this was the first time he beat him while sober. It wasn't going to be the last time either. Things were getting worse in his home life.

Yesterday wasn't any better. He ignored Scott for the better part of the day, angry over the fact he purposely ignored him the day before. Scott had told him that he went to get help from Derek, the reminder of the male that now knew his darkest secrets had made Stiles pale notably.

He tried to help Scott figure out what caused the change or what gave him control; in doing this Stiles also got some form of revenge at Scott for being a shitty ass friend. They managed to find out that it was Allison who helped the young lycan gain control. Later that day, Scott made a plan on how to prove that Deaton- his boss and the person Derek suspected was the alpha- was not the alpha. Stiles had not been able to as much as look at Derek when they had met up the school that night. Scott had called the alpha, only to have him trap them- Stiles, Lydia, Scott, Jackson, and Allison- in the school. They managed to get out and lucky for Stiles, his dad had been too busy trying to figure out what happened and who the hell was the one that had trapped them in the school - since no one could tell him who it was - that he had left Stiles alone that night. Neither Scott nor Derek had been as lucky.

Allison broke up with Scott claiming she couldn't trust him; Derek, well he was most likely dead. The alpha had caught him by surprise and had shoved his claws in to his back. The sight of blood pouring from the dark-haired man's mouth was forever engrained in Stiles' memory.

The fact that Derek was most likely dead hurt Stiles more then it probably should. He couldn't help but feel the ache in his chest well up every time he thought of the lycan. He didn't even get a chance to talk to him. He couldn't even mourn the death of the man that meant more to him than he should. The truth was, weather Stiles wanted to admit to himself or not, that the man had given him a shard of hope when he found out his secrets.

Tonight Stiles had decided to do something that would benefit both him and Scott.

They were gonna get drunk.

With the bottle of whiskey in the back and a brooding Scott in the passenger seat, Stiles drove them deep into the woods. An hour later, Stiles was wasted.

He was doing this more for his benefit then Scott's. He wanted to forget. He didn't want to feel. He wanted a night where he didn't have to cry himself to sleep. He wanted to forget the possibility that Derek was gone. He wanted to forget that he had lost another person he cared about. He knew he couldn't let Scott know that he cared about Derek. No, Scott wouldn't take it well. So he hid his hurt and grief and played his part of the happy-go-lucky friend.

He pretty much had drunk half of the bottle when he noticed Scott wasn't drunk and had seemed to get in an even worse mood. He looked at the guy that was supposed to be his best friend.

"Dude she's just one girl. There are so many other….gir-girls in the sea?" Scott looked down at his friend in amusement, smiling slightly.

"It's fish in the sea Stiles." He told him.

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish? I'm taking about girls…" Stiles slurred, sighing. "You like girls, right?" Stiles asked looking back up at his friend. "Yeah, you do." He spoke, and then mumbled more quietly. "Makes one of us at least." Not noticing that Scott furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Shaking his head, Scott's thoughts wondered back to Allison.

"What was I talking about? Hmmm…hey you're not happy! Take a drink!" Stiles grabbed the bottle and brought it closer to Scott.

"I don't want anymore…" Scott whispered.

"More for me to drown my misery with." Stiles spoke incoherently. Scott tried to decipher what he had said but the heavy slurring prevented him from doing so.

"You're not drunk" Stiles observed.

"I'm not anything" Scott replied sullenly.

Stiles rolled onto his back, before he continued. "Maybe it's a werewolf thing…Hey Scott am I drunk?" Stiles questioned.

Scott shook his head at his antics before responding. "You're wasted Stiles."

"Good, I wanna forget the pain for one night, plus I'll be numb for the beating…" he took another chug of the bitter liquid; not realizing what he had just said.

Scott looked down at his friend in concern. He wondered what the hell he was babbling about; though knowing Stiles it could be anything. Stiles spoke again.

"I know it hurts dude, trust me I know. But as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is _way_ worse…yeah it's way worse." Stiles chuckled humorlessly.

Being alone was worse. Hurting over a breakup was a heck of a lot better than being alone, he should know. He was alone. He felt a stab of pain in his chest and grabbed the bottle again and took another chug. He savored the feeling of the brown liquid burning his throat. He was feeling better than he had in years. He felt numb. He knew with the amount of alcohol he had consumed he wouldn't even feel the beating he was expecting when he got home.

Scott looked down at him again. Confused at his words, they didn't make any sense; he sighed and faced away from the intoxicated boy on the floor.

Stiles laid back down on the cold ground. He stared up at the stars, wondering if somewhere up there, his mom was watching him. Smiling at the thought, he made another grab at the bottle when it was suddenly snatched away from him. Confused he looked up and saw two tall men standing over them. He wondered how the hell his _werewolf _friendhadn't sensed them!

"Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on." The taller of the two said. He was clearly the leader.

"Give it back." Scott said, his voice demanding.

"What's that little man?" the colored man asked as if insulted that Scott had the nerve to talk to him in that tone.

"I think he wants a drink." The white male mocked.

"I want the bottle." Scott's voice sounded off.

"Maybe we should just go…" Stiles suggested. He might have been drunk but he wasn't stupid.

"You brought me here to get me drunk Stiles, I'm not drunk yet." Scott spoke. His voice was rough.

Stiles watched as Scott got up when the colored male took a swing of the liquor.

"Give it back." The lycan's voice was forceful. The man shook his head. "Give me the bottle of jack." Scott repeated, this time his voice distorted.

Stiles watched as the claws grew on Scott's hands. He scrambled up, worried about what may happen.

"Scott…" Stiles trailed off, his voice unsure and nervous. The colored man noticed the change and fearfully handed the bottle back. Scott snatched and threw it against a tree.

Scott walked off and Stiles was quick to follow; the effect of the alcohol significantly lower due to what had just happened. Scott didn't say anything just opened the jeep and told him to get in. Stiles dropped Scott off at his house, still too drunk to really worry about him and went home. He regretted it as soon as he walked in.

He turned around after closing the door and found his father sitting on the kitchen table, bottle of vodka nearly empty, at his side. Stiles throat tightened at the feeling of dread that exploded all throughout his body.

His dad looked up at him. He stood up slowly, as if trying to intimidate Stiles more than he already had. He took slow, purposeful steps toward his son, until he was standing right in front of him.

"You took my whiskey." The sheriff took another step forward; Stiles backed up and let out a small, inaudible whimper when he felt his back hit the door.

Stiles didn't say anything, he couldn't say anything. His father's hand slapped him across the face. He could feel the pain that erupted from the blow, his check instantly heating up.

The graying man didn't give the teen anytime to recover, and punched him. The crack that came from Stiles' nose resounded throughout the whole house.

Stiles let out a strangled cried as he slid to the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. He looked at the man towering over him in fear.

The man bent down, picking up the battered boy and flung him near where he had been previously sitting. Stiles landed on his stomach, he grunted at force of the impact.

"I told you that you weren't to leave the house!" The elder's voice roared; he landed a kick on the stomach of his only son. Stiles coughed, the breath knocked out of him.

A sob made its way out of adolescent; this had to have been the worst beating yet.

"You're nothing like her! You're a disgrace to her memory! It's your fault! Your fault, you bastard!" The sheriff's yelled. He removed his belt and wrapped it around his hand before swing his hand back and letting it come down against the teen like a whip.

Stiles felt the sharp sting of the belt against him. The belt came down time and time again; harder each time. Stiles curled into a ball, causing the belt to hit mainly his side and back.

Stiles was sobbing. His skin felt like it was on fire.

"Dad please stop!" Stiles begged, hoping that the man would listen.

"You deserve this brat! You know you do." He kicked the boy again, and Stiles felt like one of his ribs had broken. He gasped for air. He felt himself being picked up again, before he felt the strong fist connect with his face again.

He collapsed to the floor, there was blood steady flowing from his nose and a thin line of blood dripping from his mouth.

"It's your fault." The words were accompanied by the sound of retreating footsteps. It was the last thing Stiles heard before he was engulfed by blackness.

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><p>Stiles woke up and tried to sit up only to hiss in pain at the movement. He slumped back to the floor. He didn't know how long he had been out but he knew he needed to get up and clean up before his father woke up.<p>

The pain was nearly unbearable, but somehow Stiles managed to stand back up. He made quick work of cleaning up the evidence of what happened a few hours ago, before limping up to his room.

Closing his door, Stiles fell to the floor and curled himself into a ball his father's words echoing in his head.

'_You're a disgrace to her memory…. Your fault…. You're fault …nothing like her…disgrace…you're fault…' _

The words made him sick. Stiles shot up, ignoring the pain, and dashed to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet and emptied the contents of his stomach.

He sat up against the wall.

Was it really his fault? Brining his knees to his chest, Stiles cried. He was getting sick of this. He didn't know how much more he could take. His dad was right, it was his fault. She was gone because of him. He felt his chest tighten and heaved for air. The emotional pain was too much for the boy. Crawling, he reached the cabinet that contained his blade. He stared at it.

'_Your fault'_

He brought it his wrist and slid it across, welcoming the familiar sting. This cut was deeper than the rest, but not deep enough to cause him to bleed out. He watched as the blood dripped down his hand. He focused on that. He buried his pain. He stopped the tears.

The wound stung, but he didn't care. It was better than the pain he was suffering before. He watched as the thick liquid continued to leak out. He wasn't gonna to stop the blood flow; he figured it would stop on its own accord like his nose.

He used the wall to help stand up, not caring as a few drops of the red liquid fell to the floor

He looked in the mirror and observed his appearance. He grimaced. His nose was starting to turn a nasty purple, he could tell it wasn't broken though. There was dried blood from his nose all the way to the collar of his shirt.

He took off his shirt, grunting at the pain the simple action caused and grabbed a towel. He slightly wet it and cleaned off the caked blood. He then turned his attention to the stinging on his side and back.

The skin was a bright red. There were long cuts and small welts caused from the repeating blows of the belt against the pale skin. There wasn't much he could do for those wounds, so he left them alone.

He took in the way his stomach and rib area were also starting to turn a dark purple. He lightly poked the discolored skin and hissed in pain. He checked his bleeding wrist and noticed the flow had almost stopped, though his hand had long streaks of blood coming from his wrist all the way to his fingertips.

He felt somewhat relieved that nothing had been broken. Bruises and cuts he could hide, but broken bones would be hard to explain.

Not being able to see the way his body looked any longer, Stiles made his way, to his bed. He laid down but every position he tried, made pain blaze throughout his body. Finally after finding a semi-comfortable position, he closed his eyes, hoping that sleep will take over him so he could forget about tonight if only for a couple of hours.

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><p><strong>Hoped you liked it.<strong>

**The next chapter will consist of the rest of the episode!**

*****Quick A/N: Scott doesn't blame the incident at the school or the murders on Derek. They just say they don't know who the person that trapped them was.**

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So this chapter four and it will follow most of the plot line of Lunatic.**

**Hopefully you like it.**

*******In the last chapter a reviewer pointed out that I may have offended some of you when I used the word "colored" to describe the African-American man. If I did I am terribly sorry. It was not my intention in any way or form. I didn't realize that it could offend and I am sorry for my ignorance. It won't happen again. The reviewer, you know who you are, thank you for pointing that out. Once again I am sorry.**

**Chapter Four**

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><p>Stiles woke up to the sound of his father's voice on the other side of his closed and locked door. He tried to pay attention to what was being said, though his sleep hazed mind made the simple task hard to do.<p>

"Yes okay. How many feds are coming?" there was a pause before he heard the man sigh. "Okay yeah that's fine…Yup; I'll meet them at the school with the Deputy…Ok then bye." he heard the cell phone click shut, before his father began to walk away.

Stiles heard the heavy footsteps getting farther away from his room until he heard the front slamming shut. He winced slightly at the force.

He sighed and rolled on to his back only to yelp in pain and roll back into his side; he momentarily forgot the belt wounds on his back.

The memoires from the night before caused the familiar sensation of tears forming; Stiles shook his head, he wouldn't cry so early in the morning. He refused to. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he groaned as his abdomen hurt in protest, he stood up shakily and walked to the bedroom.

He looked in the mirror and instantly wished he hadn't.

The first thing he noticed was his nose. It was swollen, but the swelling wasn't too bad but the color of it horrified him. It was a dark purple, almost black. He gingerly touched it and he felt a sharp pain. He could only imagine how it would feel if it had been actually broken. On his lower jaw he also had a deep purple bruise, though it wasn't as bad as his nose, he noticed his lip was spilt; he hadn't noticed that the day before.

His eyes traveled down his body to his abdomen and rib area; both were victims of discoloration. The colors ranged from black, purple, yellow and a light greenish. He could see a cut peeking out from his side and twisted his body to get a better look.

Saying it looked bad would be putting it lightly. Stiles couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped his throat as he took in the damage his father caused on his body. There were interlaying bruises of about an inch and half in width. There were cuts varying in length, all of them crusted in blood.

He shook his head, imagining the pain and discomfort that would accompany him throughout the day. Stiles stripped away his pj's and his boxers and stepped into shower and turned on the water. He jumped only slightly when ice cold water hit his chest.

He showered in the cold water, not bothering to heat it up. The water allowed Stiles to focus on the physical pain and not the emotional one he felt every day.

He stepped out of the water his body was convulsing, his lips turning a slight purple. He wrapped himself in a towel and dressed in his normal attire: he wore jeans, long sleeve shirt and a pair of vans.

He went back to the bathroom and washed his teeth, wiping his mouth, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. The Stiles staring back at him was…defeated. He had dark rings along his eyes. His eyes were dull, lifeless, hopeless, and dead. He was covered in bruises, all at different stages of healing. His nose and jaw discolored. Stiles exhaled. He couldn't believe he looked like this on a daily basis and no one noticed! How did they never see the pain in his eyes, the tears that would well up in the middle of class? He shook his head. He figured that was a question he would never have an answer to.

Going through the bathroom cabinets and took out a bottle of cover-up. He didn't like using it but it was a necessity to hide the bruises. Once he was satisfied that the bruises on his face were no longer noticeable, he left the house, skipping breakfast- despite his stomach loud growls of protest-and left for school.

He parked in his usual spot and noticed the parking lot was nearly empty, only a few cars scattered here and there; the same could be said about the students. There were only a few present, sitting on the steps and conversing with their friends. He turned the car off and leaned forward, bringing his head to rest against the steering wheel, his hands on either side of his head. He took a couple of deep breaths. He sat back up and pulled down the visor of his car and looked at himself and repeated his daily mantra

'_You're happy. No one needs to know. No one needs to know the pain you suffer. No one can see you're scars, both physical and emotional that you wear. It's better this way.'_

Sighing- he seemed to be doing that more and more lately- Stiles got out of the car and walked into the school. Remembering his dad was supposed to be in the school, he'd figured he would try to get whatever information he could get from his father before going to class.

He passed the main office and saw the familiar Beacon Hills Police Force uniform. He knew he would have to wait till his father came out. He sat down on the floor.

Stiles watched as students walked by him from his position. He had his gray backpack against his chest, his knees up and he leaned his head against the wall. He let his thoughts wander as he waited for his dad to come out.

Today was the full moon, Stiles didn't know what to expect. As he tied to remember what he could of last night, he recalled the way Scott acted. He had never acted so hostile towards anyone and if he was being honest it scared him. It was most likely the full moon that had begun affecting him already.

His thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang as the door to the office opened and came out two men in black suits, one was blonde and the other had dark hair. The Sheriff and the deputy came out after them. His dad turned his head in the direction where Stiles was, and immediately spotted him. He didn't look happy and the teen slowly got up as he approached him. He knew his father wouldn't try anything, but he couldn't force down the fear he felt as he recalled what happened the night before.

The police-man crossed his arms, his voice was gruff. "Don't you have a test to get to? You know what happens when you fail." Stiles knew exactly what would happen.

"Did you find Derek yet?" He asked his voice cracking. His father huffed out a breath.

"I don't see how it's any of your concern but I'm working on it. Now get to class before I get mad, understand?"

Stiles nodded. "Yes sir but dad…just be careful okay?" Stiles couldn't help but warn him and be worried. He was still his father, even if he was a bad one and Stiles still loved him. The Sheriff didn't say anything, he just walked away. Nodding to himself, Stiles grabbed his bag and walked towards chemistry.

As a result of getting to class early, he was one of the first ones to get there and took a seat near the back of the class; he had to lean forward to avoid his hurt back making contact with the chair. He was playing with his pencil, when he saw Scott walk in. The young lycan looked at Allison and it seemed as if he was going to talk to her when Mr. Harris told him to sit down.

Stiles nodded his head at him, not feeling like talking, as Scott took the seat in front of him...

"You have 45 minutes to take the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now by simply writing your name on the front." Mr. Harris' voice boomed though the small classroom. Stiles eyes widen and he scrambled to write his name before he forgot.

"However as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to write your name on the cover and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever becoming a teacher. So let's get this disappointment over with. Begin." He rolled his eyes at the teacher's comment and hear as he clicked the stopwatch and sat down on his chair.

Stiles opened the booklet and was pleasantly surprised to see he knew the answers to the first few questions.

He lifted his head see Scott looking around the room widely, glancing down at the test before looking around again. He felt worry begin to build up for his friend.

Scott shot of his desk, surprising Stiles and the rest of the class. Stiles stayed seated, debating whether or not it was worth failing his test to go after his friend. Cursing himself and Scott, he too rushed out of class, in search of his friend.

Walking into the hall way Stiles called out for Scott, and received no answer. He caught sight of the brown bag and walked to it, picking it up.

Figuring Scott had to have his cell on him; he called him and followed the ringing cell into the boys' locker room. He was scared, there was a possibility that the young lycan had shifted. Scott had already attacked him in the locker room once, who said he couldn't- or wouldn't- try to do it again.

He walked in slowly, cautiously. His heart was beating against his ribs as if it wanted to get out. He heard the shower running. He swallowed thickly, he fixed Scott's bag on his shoulder, gripping the strap tightly in his fist.

He walked into the showers and let out a sigh of relief, letting his muscles relax. Scott was under the spray of water, still wearing pants and human. He turned around to face Stiles, he was breathing hard. His face held panic.

"Stiles…I ca-I can't... " He gasped out. His chest was rising and falling quickly.

"What's happening? Are you changing?" Stiles asked. Slight panic started to grab a hold of him. He knew how Scott was when he went wolf.

"No…no… I can't breathe!" Scott wheezed out, his face screwed in pain.

Acting quickly, Stiles searched through Scott's bag and threw his inhaler at the wheezing teen. Scott looked at him questioningly. "Just do it." Stiles ordered.

Scott used the seemingly useless inhaler. He began to relax when he realized it worked. "I was having an asthma attack?" His tone was unbelieving.

"No… you were having a panic attack. But thinking you were having an asthma attack stopped the panic attack…Irony." Stiles explained, feeling bad for the dark haired teen. He knew what panic attacks were like.

Realization lit Scott's face. "How did you know how to do that?" He asked the smaller teen curiously.

Stiles shook his head, amazed that Scott- his best fucking friend- didn't know or remember Stiles having frequent panic attacks when his mother died

"I used to get them after my mom died and now whe- uh, yeah. Not fun. "He mentally slapped himself at what he almost revealed, he sighed. Scott placed his hands on his knees.

"I looked at her and it felt like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer." Scott was hurting, he was reliving the memory.

'_Trust me; I've been hit in the ribs, not by hammer but my own father's boot.'_ Stiles thought to himself sourly.

Stiles shrugged, even though the other boy wasn't looking at him. "Yeah it's called heartbreak. About 2 billion songs written about it."

"I can't stop thinking about her." He heard him whisper.

"Well you can think about this: her dad is a werewolf _HUNTER_ and you're a _WEREWOLF _so it was bound to become an issue." He slightly chuckled, trying to once again become the _Stiles_ Scott knew.

"That wasn't helpful" he mumbled to himself after Scott glared at him

Sighing in exasperation, "Dude I mean you got dumped, it's supposed to suck."

"No that's not it; it was like I could feel everyone's emotion." Scott tried to explain, shaking his head.

Stiles tilted his head to the side, trying to process the new information. "It's got to be the full moon...So we'll lock you up in your room later just like we planned that way the alpha-who is your _boss_- can't get to you either." The voice he spoke in made it seem like it was all very simple.

"I think we need more then to just lock me up in my room." His tone serious, eyes hard.

"What? You mean because you can get out and be caught by hunters? "Stiles was confused. Sure he knew there was a slight possibility that Scott could escape, but he had a plan for that.

"No because if I get out i think I might kill someone." Scott was serious, his face pulled into a grimace as he stared into the shocked brown eyes in front of him.

Stiles felt the color drain from his face, his mouth falling open before snapping close; his face grim.

* * *

><p>Glad the school day was over, Stiles made his way to the boys' locker room. He put his backpack and books in the locker and grabbed his lacrosse gear and went to change in the stalls. He knew the players found it odd that he didn't change in front of everybody, but he couldn't let anyone see the injuries he sported on his pale skin. People would talk and rumors would spread. Stiles knew that would only cause problems and bring unwanted attention to him. After the painful experience of putting the gear on his aching body he went to the bench where Scott was sitting, he wore a strange, almost angry expression.<p>

I was about to ask him what was wrong when the shrill of the coach's whistle cut me off.

"Alright geniuses listen up! Due to the recent pink eye epidemic—_thank you_ Greenburg—the following players have made first line on a probationary basis-emphasis on the word probationary." Stiles grabbed onto the bench real excitement lit his face.

"Rodriguez, welcome to first line." The unkempt coach paused as the room was filled with claps and cheers.

"Taylor and uh- oh for the love of crap I can't even read my own handwriting…What is that an 'S'" Stiles started to stand up, his mouth slightly hanging open.

"No it's a 'b." Stiles sat back down, eyes down cast.

The coach laughed, proud that he could decipher his horrible handwriting. "That's a 'B'! Yup it's definitely a 'B'. So, Rodriguez, Taylor and uh Bilinski!"

The small brunette head whips up and he jumps out of the bench, ignoring the fire of pain that flared through his body. He yelled and fist pumped the air, not paying mind to the groans and rolling eyes of the rest of the champion team.

"Bilinski!" the coach barked at him.

"Yes?" Stiles couldn't seem to stop the smile that stretched across his face. It had been such a long time since a genuine smile graced his features.

"Shut up!" the eyebrow of the older man rose.

"Yes sir!" He stopped yelling but looked down at his friend as he called him.

"Stiles?" Scott only slightly shifted his head towards his friend.

"It's Biles. Call me Biles or I swear to God I'll kill you!" Stiles' face was completely serious.

"Oh one more thing as of now we are immediately switching to co-captains! Congratulations McCall." The coach's loud voice stopping whatever it was that the brooding teen was going to say.

Scott's head snapped up in disbelief as Stiles patted his friend's shoulder, a goofy smile still on his face.

"Wait what!" Jackson grabbed the coach's arm, trying to see his face.

"What do you mean what? Jackson this doesn't take anything away from you. This is about combining separate strengths. We are taking your unit and McCall's unit and making one big unit" He looked at Jackson, a smirk on his lips before looking back at his star player.

"McCall! It's you and Jackson now." Scott made eye contact with the former Captain, his eyes filled with hate at the teen sitting.

"Everyone else on the field. Asses on the field! Asses on the field!" The coach yelled as he walked out, the team following him.

Stiles grabbed his friend's jersey pulling slightly as he jumped up and down.

"Dude can you believe this! You're Captain! I'm first line! First freaking line!" He hadn't felt this much joy, this much uncontainable happiness in so long it was almost a foreign emotion to him.

"Are you not freaking out? I'm freaking out!" Stiles waved his arms wildly. Not understanding, and quite frankly a bit upset that the teen couldn't be excited for him.

"What's the point? It's just stupid title. I could practically smell jealously in there." Scott gave his quirky friend a glare, his voice harsh. He felt momentarily guilty as a look a pain flashed in his childhood friend's eyes but it quickly disappeared.

"Wait you could smell jealously?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah. It's like the full moon turned up everything to ten." The forlorn teen practically mumbled; Stiles had to strain his human ears to hear him.

"Huh! Interesting!" He replied with more enthusiasm than needed, the effects of the good day still not leaving the normally disheartened teenager.

"Yeah…you go ahead Stiles…I need to ask Lydia something!" the co-captain looked into the eyes of the man, well teen, beside him, showing him he was being dead serious.

"You sure?" Stiles couldn't help but ask as he suppressed a gulp.

"Go." Scott's voice was harsh and showed his annoyance; Stiles' dark brows furrowed in confusion and anger before he stormed off.

* * *

><p>Stiles waited anxiously for practice to start when he saw Scott make his way towards him.<p>

"Hey what happened? Everything okay?" Stiles shifted on the bench to let his friend sit and almost cried out as his injuries, which he had forgotten with all the excitement, came back to life.

"Everything is just fine." The smirk that crossed Scott's face unnerved every bone in Stiles' body.

As practice began, the whole team lined up in a line to attempt goalie shots. Scott was in front of him and he was up next.

"Scott, you okay dude? Look I know we just got good news, but we still have seven hours till the full moon, okay?" Scott didn't even seem to have heard him as he took off the coach's whistle.

Scott's attempt was…bad. He ran too slow and got knocked over by both defenders; the rest of the team laughing at his expense.

The coach said something to Scott before signaling Stiles it was his turn. As he getting ready, Scott jumped from the floor and pushed Stiles back, hard. Stiles winced; Scott had hit him right on his bruised chest. The coach was yelling encouraging words at the new co-captain.

Stiles watched as Scott took off and hit the defenders to the floor before knocking Danny in the face and scoring.

Danny fell with a thud and the whole team rushed over to him. Stiles watched as they took off his helmet and saw Danny's bleeding nose. Angered that Scott would do that he marched over to him.

"Dude. What the hell are you doing?" He took off his helmet and Scott turned his face away.

"He is twice the size of me." Scott muttered as if that made what he did okay.

"But everybody likes Danny; now everybody's gonna hate you!"

"I don't care Stiles!" Scott told him sharply and crudely, annoyed at his friend. Why couldn't he just fucking leave him alone! He took off his gloves and walked away. Fuming, why couldn't they all back off?

Stiles stared after his friend. The only problem was that wasn't his friend. He didn't know who that was. Exhaling sharply through his nose he turned to face the crowd around Danny.

He saw Lydia make her way into the crowd and stand next to Jackson. He could just barely hear their conversation.

"What happened? Is he going to be okay?" the strawberry blonde asked, the worry in her voice sounded real.

"Yeah it looks like it's just a bloody…" relief was heard in the blonde's voice until he looked at his girlfriend and his sentence trailed off.

"What?" she asked snidely.

"Your lipstick." The simple answer held so many accusations. Lydia raised her eyebrow, before pulling out her compact mirror. Her face took on the appearance of surprise.

"Oh! Wonder how that happened?" Her tone implicated that she knew exactly what had happened.

"Yeah—I wonder…" Jackson looked at her at disgust, but turned his attention back to the injured player on the ground.

Stiles mouth fell open in disbelief. He turned and looked at the direction Scott had disappeared to. Hurt and betrayal consumed him. No, he didn't like Lydia; he hasn't liked her for a while. It was just easier pretending he still worshiped the ground she walked on, than to admit the truth to Scott—or anybody for that matter. Truth was Stiles was gay and has been for a while. But the fact, that Scott thought he did like Lydia and he kissed her anyway, well it hurt him. Scott was supposed to be his brother, but he broke his trust.

'_How could he do this? Do I mean nothing to him?_' Stiles thought to himself. He couldn't seem to be able to catch a break. Stiles was too emotionally worked up and the injuries of the night before began to bug him again, he decided to skip the rest of practice. It wasn't worth it.

He quickly changed and went to the nearest hardware store to get what he needed for tonight. The anger, betrayal, pain, and utter frustration built with each passing hour that Stiles remained alone. As he got into his car, his purchases from the hardware store and pet shop in the passenger seat, he slammed his palm against the dashboard and let out a yell. Breathing heavily, he put the car in drive and went to the McCall house.

He parked outside the large house and stuffed everything he bought into a dark blue duffel bag. He got out his copy of the key to the house and opened the door. As he was turning around he heard Scott's mom's voice.

"Scott?" She called out, walking to the front door from the parlor; she was dressed in her scrubs, her purse in one hand and a jacket in the other. It was clear she was headed to work.

"Stiles." Was all he said, managing to look slightly sheepish.

"Key!" she told him, her eyes amused as she looked at him.

"Yeah!" he told her proudly. "I got one made."

"That doesn't surprise me, scares me but it doesn't surprise me." He could still hear the amusement in her voice as she shook her head at him.

He dropped the bag he was holding and it landed with loud thump. He flinched forgetting what he had inside.

"What is that?" her eyes zoned in on the bag, as if she was trying to see through it.

"School project." He replied too quickly and she just raised an eyebrow.

"Stiles, he is okay right?" Her previous amusement gone as it was replaced by worry.

"Who? Scott? Yeah. Totally." He tried to reassure her but he knew he was doing a shitty job.

"Hmm. It's just he doesn't talk to me anymore…not like he used to." Her voice was dripped with melancholy. She cast her eyes down, before looking back up at him, biting her lip, and Stiles could plainly see the hurt in her eyes.

He shrugged, not sure what to say to her.

"Well he's had a rough week." He mentally kicked himself in the balls. Here was Melissa, practically his second mother, worried and hurting and that was the best he could do!

"Yeah, yeah…I get it…yeah. Um…Okay...uh Okay. You be careful tonight." She tried to smile at him but it didn't reach her eyes.

"You too." He awkwardly rolled on the balls of his feet.

"Full moon." Her voice was muffled as she searched through her bag for something.

"What!" Panic seized him. Did she know?

"There's a full moon tonight you should see how the E.R gets. Brings out all the nutjobs." She looked at him oddly, confused by his reaction but chuckled anyway.

"Yeah, right!" he chuckled nervously with her.

"You know it's actually were they came up with the word lunatic." She wagged her finger at him as she passed by and walked out of the house. Stiles stayed in the same spot, almost as if he rooted there. His head fell backwards and his mouth gaped open. He wasn't sure what to make of what just happened.

He reached down and grabbed the heavy bag and climbed upstairs to Scott's room. He opened the door and flicked the lights only to jump a foot in the air as he clutched his chest.

"Oh my god!"

Scott was sitting in chair in the corner of the room, concealed by darkness. His hands clutched the arms of the chair; a murderous look was present in his dark eyes.

"Dude!" Stiles threw his arms in the air, shaking his head furiously. "You scared the crap out of me! Your mom said you weren't home."

"I came in through the window." The teen's voice was deep but it didn't sound like Scott at all.

"Okay. Well lets gets this set up I want you to see what I bought" he bent down and opened the bag. Stiles saw how Scott's eyes followed his every movement, almost as if he was his prey.

"I'm fine. I'm just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight." Scott's voice was monotonous, his face cold.

"You sure? Because you got this crazy serial killer look in your eyes and I'm hoping it's the full moon taking effect because it's really starting to freak me out." The leaner male gulped, his anxiety levels rising.

"I'm fine. You should go now." It was an order; the lycan lowered his voice making it sound even more threatening.

"Alright I'll leave. " Stiles start to get up, hoping he didn't pick up the slight rise of his heart. He stops, and he kneels back down and looks back up at the boy in the chair. "Will you at least look at what I brought? You know maybe you use it, maybe you don't sound good?"

The sitting male doesn't give any indication of hearing him; he just continued to stare coldly at the brown eyes in front of him. He brings his intense stare to the bag and slowly gets up. The calculating eyes never leave the human in front of him. He lowers himself onto the floor and reaches his hand inside and pulls out heavy metallic chains. His eyes bore into the eyes of the frighten teen in front of him and a feral smirk stretches across his tan face.

"You think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?" He spit out the last word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The wolf looked at him with disgust and disbelief. It was a rhetorical question; Stiles knew that much, he licked his lips and answered anyway.

"Actually, no" Using whatever strength he had, he quickly grabbed Scott's wrist and forcefully dragged him to the radiator and handcuffed him, and scrambled away

"What the hell are you doing!" the angry voice echoed throughout the empty house, giving it an eerie feeling. Scott pulled and fought against the handcuff.

"Protecting you from yourself…" He paused, inhaling a deep gust of air, "and giving you some payback…for making out with Lydia." He licked his lips before glaring at the trapped teen, not backing down when he glared back and bared his teeth.

Turning around, Stiles left the room and went down stairs to collect his thoughts. He leaned against the kitchen counter. His head bent forward and he brought his hands to his face and silently cried.

How can Scott do this to him? This wasn't the boy he remembered playing with in the park, or the teen that would sneak into his room late at night and they would play video games till the sun started to peak over the horizon. He betrayed Stiles' trust by kissing the girl he believed to be the love of Stiles' life. He treated him like crap; always taking advantage of him, calling him when he needed help and ignoring him when he didn't. He never spent time with him anymore because all he could think about of was Allison. How did Scott never notice the bruises, the few times Stiles actually changed in front of him? How did he miss the grimaces or sounds of pain he made when Scott would grab his wrist or playfully push him, placing pressure directly where stiles was hurt. It wasn't like all of this was fucking new! It had been going on for the better part of _six years_! And now that Scott was a _werewolf _how was it that he _couldn't fucking smell_ the blood Stiles knew sometimes leaked from his cuts?

He could understand that he hadn't picked up on the sexuality of the teen. Stiles didn't really flaunt it or anything but you would think that he would notice how sometimes he would at some of the players in the locker room! Hell, even _Danny_ had given him a few knowing looks from time to time and his best friend didn't even suspect anything? How was that even possible? Did Scott really pay so little attention to him? Did he really not care about him? Was he just someone he kept around for convenience?

Stiles lifting his head back, sniffling slightly as he gingerly rubbed his wrist-something that had become a habit since he began to cause self-harm—and grabbed a paper towel before he wiped his face clear of tears. He very gently wiped the area around his nose and jaw, those areas still caused a great deal of pain for him—not noticing he had wiped the cover-up he used- and grabbed a bottle of water for Scott and made his way back upstairs.

He stopped outside the bedroom and smirked slightly as he picked up the white water bowl he had customized at the pet shop earlier today.

He hid the bowl behind his back and walked into the room. He shook the bottle of water to gain the attention of the teen wolf huddled up against the radiator.

"I brought you some water…" Once he was sure he had his attention he took the bowl from behind his back, making sure the word 'SCOTT' which was written on the bowl was facing the wolf. He smiled slightly as he poured the water and threw the bottle somewhere in the dark room. He bent down placed the bowl near him before turning and walking away.

He stopped and he hunched a bit when he heard the bowl clatter as it made contact with his back and some of the water hitting the back of his neck.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he heard Scott scream at him, the normal fear didn't rise, it was anger that rose within him. He stood still, trying to control his anger so he wouldn't explode on him, knowing that would only make things worse. He turned around, his voice sharp and breathing heavy.

"You kissed her Scott, okay? You kissed Lydia! It doesn't even matter that I don't—the fact I don't ev—you betrayed my trust; and you know for the past three hours I've been thinking it's probably just the full moon, he doesn't even know what he is doing. And tomorrow he will be back to normal; he probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's being, a son of a bitch, and a freaking unbelievable piece of crap friend! But then I remember it isn't just tonight; you're always a fucking piece of shit friend! You don't even notice the sc—you never seem to care that my da—I just I don't fucking get you Scott! I've learned to deal with the shitty friend I was given but today you're just a fucking asshole!" Stiles practically screamed, his throat was raw and he felt the lump form. He blinked and inhaled to keep himself from crying. His chest was rapidly falling and rising; he chastised himself for all the things he almost let spill out.

"She kissed me." Scott looked at the floor.

"What?" Confusion overtook him, what was that supposed to mean?

"I didn't kiss her; she kissed me." He looked back up making sure to hold the gaze of the shaking teen that stood in front of him. There was smugness all over Scott's face, including his eyes and he smiled in satisfaction as the facial expressions of Stiles. Stiles couldn't believe that was all he could say despite everything Stiles threw at him. Didn't he see that he didn't care about Lydia?

Somewhere deep inside him, Scott fought against the wolf that had seemed to seize control of him today. Within the confines of his own mind he listened to every word that Stiles yelled at him, understanding some, most of it Scott didn't understand. What Scott was able to notice was the dark patch of color right around Stiles' nose. Every action he did today, he had no control over. The wolf was angry, and he took control of Scott's mind, and Scott could feel it get stronger as the full moon neared closer and closer.

Stiles whipped his neck to the side, biting his lips and exited it the room. He leaned up against the wall next to the door frame and slowly slid down, enjoying the pain the flashed from his injured back as he continued to hear Scott speak.

"She would have done a lot more too." He spoke his tone barely audible, but helding mocking. "You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me; she would have done anything I wanted." Stiles rubbed his hands up and down his face, whimpering when he rubbed his nose on accident. He flinched and tried to get impossibly closer to the wall when he heard Scott's earsplitting yell.

"ANYTHING!" the scream echoed throughout the house and Stiles figured that it could even be heard outside.

Stiles brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he buried his head in between them. He cried, he cried for his friend, he cried for the physical pain he felt, he cried for the shitty life he had to endure, he cried for everything and anything. His body was shaking uncontrollably and all he heard coming from the room was Scott's pants and struggles. Eventually the noises stopped and he heard a small groan. He lifted his head up and leaned his back on the wall, letting the tears that kept on springing from his swollen eyes stream down his slightly reddened pale skin.

"Stiles please let me out." Scott begged quietly, his voice sounded normal. It was as if the real Scott was the one speaking, but Stiles knew better.

"It's the full moon, I swear. You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose." Did he? Would Scott really not do this without the full moon's effect? Stiles wasn't sure he knew the answer; Scott continued to plead softly. "Please Stiles let me out… it's starting to hurt; it's not like the first time. It's the full moon, it's Allison breaking up with me. I know we are not just taking a break, she broke up with me and it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless; just please let me out please"

"I _can't._" Stiles whispered softly, though he knew his werewolf friend would have no problem hearing. He leaned his head back, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt bad for his friend, no matter how angry he made him, he knew Scott was hurting. But the risk something happening if he let him go was too great.

He heard Scott's frightened gasp accompanied by the sound of shoes scraping against the floor. His breathing picks up as Scott being to pant.

"No. No. No. No. No. _No!_ "Each 'no' was filled with more panic than the one before it. He heard the metal of the handcuffs being pulled harder and harder and his heart froze when he heard Scott scream.

"AHHH!" Stiles grabbed his head before slamming it against the wall. Tear falling with more speed than before. Scott's scream was filled with so much pain, so much hurt and so much anger. Stiles bent his head between his knees, covering his ears with his hand, wishing that was enough to block out the scream. He sobbed for the both of them.

The screaming stopped, the sounding of metal against metal stopped, the sounds of shuffling feet stopped. Stiles lifted his head, unsure if it was only his mind playing tricks on him.

"Scott?"

No answer.

He got up slowly.

"Are you okay?"

Still no answer.

He walked into the room.

"Are you o—fuck!" Looking into the room, Stiles didn't see Scott. The window was wide open, the handcuffs covered in blood lay on the floor, and the light of the moon hit in the exact spot were Scott had been.

"Fuck" he swore again, he ran to his jeep, pulled out of the driveway and went to search for the young wolf.

* * *

><p>Stiles drove everywhere he thought his friend might have disappeared to and couldn't find him.<p>

He pulled over and tried to calm himself down. He knew that being all worked up wasn't going to help anyone. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

He opened his eyes once he thought he had better control of his emotions and started the car again.

He drove around aimlessly, when he saw a cop car turn a sharp right. He looked to where it was headed and recognized it as the place he took Scott to get him drunk. He turned and followed the car, curious to see what was going on.

There were at least four police cars, one of them belonging to his father, and an ambulance. Stiles felt an uneasy feeling settle in his stomach, the same uneasy feeling he got whenever his father went to work. Stiles didn't know why but no matter all the things his dad did to him, Stiles still cared for him. He was still his father, still the only family member he had left. He quickly got out of the car and ran up to the men. He shook their shoulders, asking them the same question: 'Have you seen my father?' No one would answer him. He saw the EMTs bringing in a body, obviously dead, from the woods. Stiles breath caught in his throat, fear and grief made his heart stop beating. He walked towards the body, expecting to be told that it was his father under the sheet.

He felt a strong hand grab his shoulder and turn him around roughly.

"What the hell are you doing?" His father stared back at him. Stiles couldn't help himself; he grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. He barely had his arms around the man when he was shoved away.

"What the hell was that? Get out of here. NOW!" the man seemed surprised and annoyed at the hug his son gave him. Stiles nodded and ran back to his jeep. He had to keep on reminding himself that just because he still cared about his dad, didn't mean that his dad felt the same way.

"If he did, he wouldn't beat the crap out of you every day now would he?" he asked himself bitterly.

Stiles by then knew that finding Scott would be impossible so with a heavy heart, he drove back home.

He walked into the empty house and went to his room. He opened the door, not bother to turn on the lights, Stiles let himself fall onto his bed.

The day had been so stressful, so emotional taxing that Stiles felt himself glad that right now he was feeling numb. Numb was good, it meant nothing could hurt.

Sitting up, he reached for his table lamp and clicked it on. That is when he saw him.

Derek Hale was standing by his window.

Unable to control his actions, he ran to the man he thought was dead and hugged him.

Derek tensed.

* * *

><p><strong>SHESH! Man did that take forever to write!<strong>

**I had a bit of writer's block and was losing my inspiration to keep writing so I kept putting it off. **

**But nonetheless it is done!**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**If you find any mistakes with spelling, facts of the story (i.e the time Stiles' mom died), or anything else please PM me and let me know and i will change it.**

**Review!**

**A/N I am not sure when the next update will take place because I have a bunch of things going on:**

**I want to update my story: My Mate, again before I do anything else**

**School is starting up in a couple of day: /**

**I am attempting to write my chapter story based on my stories: Abandonment and Here For Good.**

**But I will try to update soon. Probably within the next couple of weeks!**


	5. Chapter 5: Make Me Forget

**Chapter Five: Make Me Forget**

**Sorry for the long wait. I have a whole bunch of things that needed to get done. Plus I am working on two new stories so I have been working on those during most of my free time. :D**

**Thank you for the reviews! And sorry for the last chapter, some of you didn't like it so i apologize for that.**

**Anyways, that being said here comes some STEREK ACTION! (Mature Content! Consider yourself warned!)**

* * *

><p>Stiles felt Derek tense as he wrapped his arms around him. Fearing he had crossed a boundary, he began to let go, only to feel Derek wrap his arms around him pulling him back to him. Stiles' eyes widened comically, before he tightened his grip on the taller man once more, laying his head against the broad shoulder. The events of the day wearing him down and he fisted the dark gray shirt the werewolf had in his fists. He wanted some comfort.<p>

He felt a light kiss being placed on the top of his head. He raised his head in surprise at the action and met Derek's eyes. The gray eyes contained concern and an emotion Stiles couldn't define. Blushing slightly, Stiles pulled back and wrapped his arms around himself. He wasn't used to this. No one ever cared anymore; no one ever comforted him anymore. So why had Derek?

He placed a good five feet distance between him and wolf, and he swore he saw a flash of pain and disappointment flash in the gray-green eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Sorry." He offered trying to break the silence, when it was clear that the taller man wasn't going to respond he continued. "ho-how did yo- I saw-…" he sighed in frustration. " I thought you were dead." Stiles sat down on his bed again, he raised his gaze to the wolf.

"I healed." Did Stiles expect anything less than a cryptic answer? No, of course not; it was Derek after all.

"Oh. So what are you doing here?" Stiles didn't fool himself. He knew why Derek was here. He was just kind of wishing that he had forgotten.

"You know perfectly well why I am here." The slightly tanned male pulled out Stiles' computer chair, placing it directly across from Stiles and sitting down. "We didn't get a chance to talk about what has been going on before. So you _are _going to tell me _now_." His voice left no room for arguments. This only angered Stiles. He jumped up from the bed.

"Why do you even fucking care Derek? All you fucking do is threaten me constantly!" The werewolf just stared at him.

Stiles huffed, upset and stressed, he sat back down. Derek grabbed his wrists, pulling up the sleeves of the hoodie. He examined the wrists like he had a few days ago. He noticed a new cut on one them and it looked fairly new; it was deeper than the rest, and that made him frown. Stiles didn't say anything. He turned his head away, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay.

Derek reached over and grabbed Stiles' chin so that he would face him. Gently he brought his thumb across the discoloration he had noticed on his face when Stiles had turned on the light. He rubbed the area and pulled back his thumb to find make up on it. He reached over again, using a T-shirt that was on the floor, and wiped the face of the trembling teen until he was sure there was no makeup left. What he saw made a growl leave his throat.

Stiles flinched at the sound and was instantly wrapped in the arms of the elder. He whimpered softly when Derek squeezed causing his chest and back to hurt. Derek heard the whimper and pulled back instantly.

"Where else Stiles?" his voice didn't sound human anymore. Stiles could tell he was fighting the shift, but instead of feeling afraid, he felt almost…safe.

Stiles hung his head; he knew there was no use in fighting or denying the wolf what he wanted. He stood up and removed his hoodie, only wincing once, and then slowly removed his shirt. Derek kept on staring at him and he began to feel self-conscious. Derek stood up and lightly traced the bruises on his chest and abdomen. He looked into Stiles' eyes and grabbed his shoulder and slowly turned him around so he could see the boy's back.

Stiles heard Derek's breath pick up, growls erupting from his chest and he dropped his hand from his shoulder. Stiles stepped away quickly and sat back down on the bed. He looked at the floor; trying to not show how much sharing this with someone affected him.

Derek let him walk away. He began to pace around the small room, not saying anything. How did he not notice this before? He wasn't a pup! He should have smelled something, or heard something or _fucking sensed_ something! Maybe if he had, he could have stopped this, or at least helped him, given him someone to talk to.

"How long Stiles?" his back faced the boy. He heard the younger teen take a deep breath.

"Derek, you don't have to wor-it's no big de-"He got cut off by Derek's angry voice.

"I asked you how long Stiles! Answer the damn question." He spun around and made eye contact with the broken teen.

"I-I-...Uh a little less than six years…" Stiles whispered. Derek's face softened. He'd been going through this for six years; going through this alone.

Stiles watched as his face returned to its normal stoic composure. He asked the question he was dreading.

"Does Scott know?"

He sat in front of him again. The younger teen, pushed himself further into his bed until his back reached the wall. He brought his knees to his chest and rested his head against them. He felt too exposed. No one should have found out.

"No, no one knows." He felt the bed dip and he felt strong arms wrap around him as he was placed in Derek's lap. He fought against him, thrashing and pushing against the warm chest. He felt confined, he felt scared.

No one cares, no one has ever cared. The fact that _Derek Hale _was here trying to help, scared the crap out of Stiles. He was going to hurt him eventually too.

The lycan let the young teen thrash, punch and push him, but he refused to let him go. He knew the boy needed this. He had been alone for so long, that if someone didn't help him, comfort him, show him that they cared about him- Derek didn't even want to imagine what would happen.

Yes, he found the quirky teen annoying more than ninety percent of the time, but also he found him endearing. The way he constantly talked and talked and talked and talked might make him want bash his head against the wall but he found it cute. His loyalty to Scott and himself surprised him. He always sacrificed himself, always tried to help even it meant putting himself in danger, and that earned him so much respect in Derek's eyes. He was the only person that made him want to laugh or even smile in the last six years. Derek would be lying if he said he hadn't completely fallen in love with the human in his arms.

"NO! No! Why you? Why do you fucking care Derek? No one else does. Everyone else leaves me, doesn't care, and ignores me! It's my fault she's gone. I _deserve_ this. Why did you have to find out! Scott doesn't even notice. He doesn't care. He uses me. My best friend doesn't now that my dad beats me almost every night! He doesn't notice my cuts my bruises, my pain. He believes the act. Why couldn't you just let it go! Why?" Stiles cried out. His breaths were heavy. He punched the chest he was against, pushed away from it. He didn't understand why he did care. He couldn't hold back the tears anymore and he just let them flow out.

Stiles eventually stopped fighting, his body shagged in exhaustion and he hid his face in the crook of werewolf's neck. He grabbed onto the shirt of the man holding him as he left go of everything he had been holding inside himself for so long. He sobbed, his body shook from the force of the sobs. He thought of everything. He thought of his beautiful mother that he lost, his mom was gone because of him. His father hated him, a father was supposed to protect and love his family and all his father did was beat the crap out of him. His best friend didn't even care. He ignored him, left him on the sidelines and only called when he needed help. He didn't see what is going on in his life. Scott claimed to know everything about Stiles when in truth he knew nothing.

A gasped shuddered its way through the pale boy's lips. "... I-I-I can't do this anymore…" another sob left him and he clung tighter to the gray shirt. "I-I-I can-Der-just don't leave please…" Stiles begged as he lifted his head to make eye contact with the only person that was able to see what was happening to him.

Surprising both the teen and himself, Derek lifted his hand to caress the Stiles' soft cheek. He never broke eye contact. "I am not leaving you Stiles. You are not alone anymore." Stiles saw the truth in Derek's eyes, he nodded.

The gray eyes of the lycan bore into the dark brown ones in front of him. He saw the chocolate eyes dart down to his lips before rising to him again. Derek licked his lips. He didn't even register what he was doing until he felt his lips make contact with Stiles' full soft lips. His eyes widen and he continued to stare into the surprised eyes of Stiles. He broke away quickly.

He shouldn't have done that. Stiles was hurt, he wasn't ready.

"Stiles, I'm sor-" He was caught off when Stiles grabbed the back of his neck and forced their lips back together. His eyes widened again, before closing.

He responded back, quickly taking control of the kiss. He cupped the teen's face between his two hands, holding him in place.

Stiles let out a small moan as Derek pressed their lips together with more force. He shifted so that now he was straddling the tattooed man's lap instead of sitting on it. His hands were everywhere. They traced his back, grabbed his biceps, gripped his neck and finally he grabbed Derek's jet black hair between his fingers. He pulled and received a small growl in return; the growl sent a shiver down his spine.

He had always held an attraction to the beta; he had even begun to develop feelings for him. He didn't do anything about them because he was scared. His life was a mess as it was and he didn't need the werewolf's rejection on top of that. When the black haired man told him that he wasn't going to leave, Stiles knew he could trust him.

Derek broke the kiss, allowing Stiles to catch his breath. He trailed his lips across the smooth pale skin of the man in his arms. He kissed along his jaw and his neck. He inhaled Stiles' unique scent, nuzzling his face into the warm neck. He nipped and sucked on the sensitive flesh, pleased to hear small whimpers leaving the mouth of the boy. He smirked when he saw the small bruise forming on the neck before capturing the teen's lips in another heated kiss.

He nipped on the bottom lip and swiped his tongue against it. Stiles gasped and Derek plunged his tongue into his mouth. Their tongues battled in a fight for dominance, Derek easily winning. He explored the warm mouth of the boy he loved. He moved his hands down to the slim hips and pulled them closer to his own.

Stiles broke the kiss when he felt Derek's erection rub against his own, a moan finding its way out of his mouth. His senses were on overload. He was drowning in everything that was Derek.

Derek moved his mouth to the smaller male's neck, letting his tongue lick right under the fair colored ear before gently biting the ear lobe. The sensation had Stiles bucking his hips. The frictions caused Derek to moan as his hid his face into the neck causing Stiles to smile proudly at the sound.

Derek lifted his head and locked eyes with the teen again. Stiles felt himself harden even more as he looked into Derek's eyes; they were no longer gray but an electric blue. Derek smelled Stiles' arousal increase and he growled and pushed Stiles onto his back, climbing on him so he over the smaller body, one his knees in between Stiles' legs and the other on the outside. They were touching _everywhere._ Their chests were against each other's, their hips pushed together. Taking advantage of the position, Derek grinded his hips into the ones below him and nearly came undone at the sound Stiles made.

The chocolate colored eyes of Stiles were glazed over darkened, filled with lust and passion. He pulled Derek's face to his kissing him passionately, tongues clashing. He lifted his hips, needing friction, and whimpered when he felt Derek grind back. Panting, he broke the kiss and stared at Derek.

"Make me forget…please Derek…" His voiced sounded like pure sex. Derek hesitated. He looked into his eyes, searching for something. He wanted to make sure that he truly wanted this and wasn't just using him as a way to distract himself from his life. Finding what he wanted, he nodded before capturing his lips again. His hands traveled down the teen's naked chest until it came in contact with the jeans. He leaned back until he was resting on his knees. Stiles looked at him through hooded eyes.

Derek began to undo the button of the jean as he leaned over licked his way up the body from the jeans back to Stiles' neck. He nibbled on the pale skin as he pushed down both the jeans and boxer; Stiles kicked them off.

Derek grabbed hold of the weeping member and slowly stroked him. Stiles moaned, his eyes closing in pure ecstasy and thrusted his hips wanting more. Derek smirked at his reaction and kissed his way down the body. He softly blew on Stiles' erection-causing the teen's eyes to fly open- before engulfing it in his mouth.

Derek bobbed his head, and moaned at the sight of Stiles fisting the sheets and eyes closed. He let the hardened member slip from his mouth and he kissed the insides of Stiles' thighs, leaving hickies on both thighs.

He grabbed his dick again, licking the underside before taking him back into his mouth.

"Ohhh god….soo good….Derek" Stiles grabbed onto the hair of the lycan. His eyes tightly closed. His body was filled with immense pleasure. He was _so close_! He could feel it, but he didn't want it to end yet. He yanked on Derek's hair.

Derek stopped what he was doing; he raised his gaze to the pale teen.

"What's wrong?" He was concerned and for the first time in a long time he felt insecure of himself.

"Nothing's wrong…don't want it…to end...so soon…" Stiles was barely able to speak, his breaths still coming out in pants. Understanding flooded Derek, he let a faintest of smiles grace his face before climbing back and capturing Stiles' lips once more. Stiles broke the kiss; much to the annoyance of the wolf.

"You got way too many clothes on. It's not fair." Stiles face stretched out into a seductive smirk. Amusement filed the gray orbs above him. Derek leaned down until his lips were right next to the brunette's ear.

"I guess we'll have to fix that then, huh?" he took his ear lobe in between his teeth and nibbled; he was glad to have found Stiles' weakness so quickly. Derek got off the bed, standing to his full height once his feet touched the ground. Stiles' hungry eyes followed his every move. He kept eye contact with Stiles as he reached down and removed his shirt. He smirked smugly as he saw the brunette lick his lips.

Stiles stared at the god standing in front of him, salivating when he revealed his well-defined upper body. Licking his suddenly dry lips he got up from the bed and walked over to him, till they were face to face. The gray eyes darkened with desire, stared back into his own. Roughly, Stiles grabbed his neck and brought their lips together. When air became a necessity, he moved his lips to kiss and nip along Derek's sharp jaw to his neck. He nipped right above the collarbone.

"Stiles…" the lycan moaned out, bucking his hips. The teen smiled, happy that he caused such a reaction. Stiles continued to make his way down the delectable body in front of him.

Getting to Derek's chest, he took one of the nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around and bit down gently. Letting go of it and he moved to the other, giving it equal attention. He loved seeing the effect he had on the elder. His muscles were tense, his breaths were coming out in pants, and every once and a while a moan or groan would escape him. He kissed his way down, falling to his knees, and stopped when he got to his abs. Peering up, he was happy to find Derek staring intently at him, his lips slightly parted. Making sure to keep looking into the intense grey eyes, he let his tongue trace every line of the rock-hard abs. He moaned at the taste of the slightly salty skin. His tongue trailed down to the small hairs that disappeared into the tight jeans of the wolf. He nipped and licked across the waist line. Slowly and teasingly he unbuckled the belt and undid the button and zipper. He pushed the pants down and Derek kicked them aside.

The thin black boxers did nothing to hide the obvious arousal of the wolf. Stiles brought his pale hand up and rubbed the hard length through the thin material. Derek threw his head back and let out a guttural moan. Satisfied with the reaction, Stiles made quick work of discarding the boxers.

Grabbing hold of him, he kissed the tip and slowly let his tongue paint circles on it before engulfing it in his mouth. He heard the growl that the wolf released as it echoed throughout the room, and almost instantly he felt a warm hand on the back of his neck.

He hummed around the warm cock, his tongue lapping at the underside as he continued to bob his head.

"Damn…S-Stiles…" the lycan muttered huskily. The pale teen only responded with a low moan and gentle scrapping of his teeth down the throbbing member; he brought one of his hands to fondle with the wolf's balls and the other tightly held on to the man's hip.

The grip on his neck tightened and the Derek's hips involuntarily jerked forward, his senses on overload. Stiles gagged for a bit, forcing himself to relax and breathe through his nose, he was able to resume what he had been doing.

Making sure his throat stayed relaxed, he let the lycan continue to thrust into his eagerly awaiting mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and Derek tensed.

Stiles' chocolate eyes widen for a second as the bittersweet cum fell on his tongue and hit the back of his throat. He swallowed everything Derek gave him, and licked his swollen lips.

Derek roughly pulled him up to his feet and smashed his lips against the teen's. He smirked into the kiss at being able to taste himself, reveling that he was in some way marking the teen as his. He walked them towards the bed, never breaking the heated kiss, and pushed the pale kid on it. He climbed on him, hands on either side of the brunette beneath him.

He pressed his naked hips against the other's, feeling that he was just as aroused as he was. Stiles let out a small whimper of 'please' slip from his lips. Sitting up on his knees, Derek took a minute to marvel at the pale body that lay in front of him.

"Derek…come on...Please…" Stiles pleaded not caring that he sounded incredibly wanton. The werewolf's eyes turned electric blue again when he heard the lacrosse player beg for him.

He covered the boy's body with his own again, resting his weight on one hand and brought three fingers of the other one in front of the slightly parted mouth of Stiles.

"Suck." Stiles brought his eyes to meet the now bright blues eyes as he wrapped the three slightly tanned fingers between his pink lips. He swirled his tongue around them, making sure to get them nice and wet.

Derek removed his fingers from the warm mouth of his lover when he felt that they were slick enough. Forcefully, he grabbed the pale hips and flipped him over so that Stiles was on his hands in knees.

He parting the milky white globes in front of him and growled lowly at the puckering hole. He leaned his face forward and pushed his tongue into the tight heat.

Stiles buried his head into the bed, when he felt Derek's tongue enter him. It felt so good!

"D-Derek…" he panted, tensing when he felt a finger inside him.

The kid felt Derek kiss along his spine and whisper softly in his ear, "Relax, just enjoy." He nibbled on the pale flesh; Stiles craned his neck to the side giving him more space to explore. A small whine reverted throughout the room as another wet finger slid into him, scissoring him.

Derek continued preparing the boy, smirking in satisfaction, at the sounds he made. He was so turned on at this point that it was beginning to hurt. He removed his fingers and positioned his cock at the puckering hole.

He saw the teen turn his head and look at him, his face was flushed, lips parted, and breathing heavy. Without warning he slammed into the tight warm body; a growl and groan of pain was all that was heard in the room.

As soon as the warmth wrapped around his dick, he lost control over the wolf. His vision turned red, fangs elongated; his eyes shone a brighter blue, his dull nails transformed into sharp claws. Growls unceasingly erupted from his chest and he tightly gripped onto the hips of his lovers, nail digging into the delicate skin; small beads blood slipped out. Derek caught the scent of fear along with the increasingly stronger smell of arousal mixed in with the sweet smell of Stiles' blood; with a snarl the lycanthrope pulled completely out before slamming back in.

Stiles arched his back, a loud moan sounding from his lips, he couldn't think straight anymore. Derek was thrusting furiously into him. He knew that Derek had shifted and part of him feared him, and rightfully so if the way his claws were digging into his hips were any indication. The sharp pain of claws, the unexpected entry – which he wasn't given any time to adjust to- mixed with the pure pleasure of being _fucked senseless_ were overwhelming to say the least.

The teen felt the older man hit something within him at the same he grabbed Stiles' painfully erect dick, and Stiles cried out in pleasure.

The wolf snarled in approval at how responsive his lover was. He tightened his hold on him again, claws digging even further in, and thrusted harder, making sure to hit the brunette's prostate every time.

"Don't s-stop….ngh…oh fuck…faster please…" the younger one begged; the forceful thrust knocking him to rest on his forearms. He felt the wolf hit his prostate again.

"Shit! Do that again!" his request was instantly fulfilled.

Derek let his hands wonder up the kid's sides- making sure to avoid the scared back- the claws lightly scratching the skin leaving small red lines. He leaned over, resting his weight on one hand resting next to Stiles' arm, the other hand grabbing on to the dripping cock of the teen stroking him in perfect synchronization to his rough thrusts.

Placing his mouth near the ear of the whimpering boy, he growled out, "Mine…Mine…" and latched his fangs to the sensitive skin on the boy's neck-not with enough force to break skin but enough to leave a mark.

Stiles' heard the coarse whisper and didn't know why but he couldn't help but agree as another spasm of pleasure blazed through his body. "Yours…only yours….god I'm so close…don't stop…please."

Pleased with his words Derek removed himself from the lean body- one hand grabbing the hip again while the other continued to pump the smaller man's member-and he thrust harder and deeper into the warm and inviting body, the sound of skin slapping against skin alongside moans and growls of pleasure saturated the room.

He felt Stiles tensing beneath him, and began to pump his hand faster.

Stiles screamed in pleasure, writhing under him, pleading for more; the tattooed man snarled unable to form any eloquent statement or thought.

"Oh Derek I'm gonna cum! Yes…oh...ah…OH GOD!" The muscles in the back of the younger teen tensed and Derek felt his hand being covered in warm cum as Stiles came in spurts.

The teen's release was enough to trigger his own orgasm. His grip on the hips tightened and he threw his head back as he let lose a ferocious howl that threatened to shake the house. He kept on thrusting for bit more, riding out his climax before stilling his movements.

He stayed inside Stiles for a moment before pulling out and falling onto the bed next to the exhausted body of his satisfied lover, both still trying to catch their breath and Derek trying to shift back.

Once Derek regained control over his wolf counterpart, he rolled over to his side, pulling the teen to his body so that they were spooning, his arm wrapped around the slim waist. He affectionately nuzzled the pale and sweaty neck, licking it.

Stiles hummed in contentment. The affection that that Derek was giving him was strange but liked nonetheless.

"Thank you." he whispered softly knowing the wolf would hear him; he didn't know what he was thanking him for exactly, there were just so many things. Part of him feared what would happen once they woke up. Would Derek leave him? What does he think of him after he practically offered himself like he was a common whore? He pushed his doubts and fears to the back of his mind and tried to bask in the afterglow.

Derek buried his face deeper in to the crook of his neck before he spoke.

"We'll talk more about everything later; rest now." Stiles slightly nodded in agreement, he snuggled closer to the warmth of Derek's body letting his eyes fall close, and his breathing evened out.

Derek smiled slightly to himself; he tightened his hold on the waist, bringing them impossibly closer.

"I wish you knew how much you mean to me." He let the words hang in the air before falling asleep himself.

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><p><strong>Well there you go! Finally some steamy Sterek Action<strong>

**You know what they say though: Things only get worse before they get better.**

**They still have a lot to discuss, a lot to figure out. Stiles has a long way to go.**

**What will happen to the Sheriff and what about Scott?**

**Tell me some of your ideas of what should happen. I am curious to see what my reader want to happen! Also I am looking for a Beta for this story so please PM if you are interested!**

**Anyways thank you for reading!**

**Review!**

******On a side note, for the people who are intersted and/or requested it the mutil-chapter story based on Abandonment and Here for good is up! its called _Hardships of an Eternal Love._**


	6. Chapter 6: Friends?

**Chapter six is here!**

**I want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. It really means a lot and the respond always make my day! And sorry for any mistakes in the grammar or punctuation etc.**

**I want to mention something. In an earlier chapter, I think it was chapter three, I said that Scott never told the police that it was Derek who attacked them at the school. Well I decided to change that because having Derek stay at Stiles' house helps a lot with the story. Sorry for the change and any confusion!**

**Also i want to thank my friend Kar3 B3ar for helping me and giving me some ideas for the story!**

**Anyways back to the story.**

**Chapter Six: Friends?**

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><p>Derek opened his eyes when he heard the front door slam shut as the sheriff left for work. He felt his wolf grow restless as it wanted to go after the bastard of the man. Ignoring it, he let his gray eyes drop to the sleeping boy in his arms.<p>

At some point during the night they had shifted their positions, instead of spooning, Stiles now has his head on the lycan's chest, an arm draped across his waist. Derek lay on his back with both arms wrapped around the teen.

Peering to the bedside table, he noted he had woken up an hour before Stiles needed to wake up for school. He sighed, closing his eyes arms tightening around the small body.

He listened intently to the slow beating of the heart that was so important to him. He didn't know where they stood after last night. He didn't think the teen knew either and Derek couldn't help like feel that he had taken advantage of him. Stiles had been in a vulnerable state last night.

He groaned quietly, moving one of his arms to cover his eyes. They still had a lot to discuss this morning. He wanted to know why he had never told Scott. They were supposed to be best friends. He wanted to know how often it happened, around what time did it happen most often, why this even started.

The werewolf was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the change in the boy's heart rate and his breathing increasing slightly, indicating he was now awake. Derek left him alone, figuring when he was ready to talk he would.

Stiles stayed still. He tried to gather his thoughts, listening to the steady beat of Derek's heart helped him.

He didn't know how he felt about last night. He had never told anyone about what his dad did and yesterday he told Derek Hale. What surprised him most was the fact that he had seemed genuinely concerned and worried for him. Derek had comforted him even when he had yelled and punched him, he had stayed. The lupine had promised to not leave him; he told him that he wasn't alone. Stiles knew that was true and he left like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

The kiss.

The kiss was…intense. Stiles had never felt like that before in his life. It was amazing and then he remembered how he had practically begged the older man to have sex with him. He groaned in embarrassment, pushing his head into the warm chest under him. He felt the arms around his waist tighten and Derek nuzzling his head.

He tensed at the action. He slowly sat up, blushing when he realized that they were both still completely naked. The smaller man turned his head and looked into the gray eyes-those eyes held so much emotion right now.

"I-I-I got to use the bathroom. I'll be back." He got up from the bed, stopping at his closet and yanked a random shirt and pants and ran into the bathroom. Shutting and locking the door, Stiles leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. The action still made his back hurt, but the pain had significantly diminished compared to the night before.

He leaned his head against the door. What had he gotten into? How could he have let last night happen?

He knew sitting there wouldn't make his problems vanish and he still had school to go to. He hauled himself to his feet, turning the shower on and jumping in.

The water hit his skin and hissed at the stinging pain it brought on. He looked at his body and noticed five small holes and a handprint bruise on each of his hips; they were Derek's hands. He glared at the wounds as if they were responsible for the predicament he was in now.

He was wasting too much time! He quickly finished his shower and dried himself off. After patching up his hips, he got dressed. Checking his reflection, he was glad to notice that the bruising of his face was starting to heal, but they still weren't healed enough to not be noticable. He applied the much hated cover-up, brushed his teeth and prepared himself to go back to the bed room.

Unlocking the door, he gripped the knob. His thoughts began to race through his head; his grip on the door knob was so tight his knuckles turned white.

Inhaling deeply, he turned the knob and stepped into his bedroom.

Derek was nowhere in sight. His bedroom window was wide open.

His heart dropped. He should have _known_ Derek didn't actually care. He should have _known_ that the wolf had only wanted to use him, just like everyone else in his forsaken life. He went to the window slamming it shut, and sat on his bed.

A white piece of paper on his pillow caught his attention, picking it up he read it.

**It's almost time for you to go to school.**

**I'll be back when you get home. We still need to talk.**

**Leave your window unlocked.**

**D.**

Guilt took a hold on the teen's heart. There he was cursing and damning the werewolf, when he had merely left because Stiles needed to go to school.

This was too new…too different for him. He was so used to being abandoned and used he didn't know if he could deal with this side of Derek.

Stuffing the note into his back pocket he finished getting ready and left for school.

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><p>Derek sat on the roof of his burned house, the cool winter wind whipping around him. The sun provided very little warmth but it made the scenery presented before him look almost ethereal. The forest, though bare, held a beauty that never ceased to amaze him. The smells reminded him of the happy times of his childhood; the times when he would run around the woods trying to catch his sister or brother. He remembered the times when his whole family would gather outside for a bonfire or birthday party. He sighed and let the sounds of the forest; distract him from the conflicting and depressing thoughts that possessed his mind. He let them wonder to a more pressing issue: Stiles.<p>

Had he made a mistake last night?

He hadn't meant to sleep with the teen; he had come over to talk to him. He went over to give him someone to talk to.

He growled in frustration. It had been obvious that the teen regretted sleeping with him. The lycan had to admit that it pained him that he did.

He could never want someone like him. A monster. Derek sighed as he let his locked up emotions come out. Tears pooled in his eyes but he didn't let them fall.

If he couldn't be with Stiles he would at least give the boy a friend. He would apologize for the way he treated him the past. He would help the boy heal and move on from this stage in his life even if it was the last thing he did.

He didn't hear the cop car roll up to his yard until it was too late.

"You! Stay where you are! You are under arrest." Standing up, he jumped off the roof and ran into the surrounding woods, hearing the sounds of gunfire. Eventually the sounds of the police no longer reached his ears and tried to catch his breath.

He damned the idiotic pup who pinned this to him. Scott was really ticking him off lately. He knew he couldn't stay in his house anymore. It was too risky but he had nowhere else to go.

That was a problem to be solved some other time, he was sure he would think of something. He looked at the time on his cell and figured Stiles would be home soon. Running to the house of the abused boy, he jumped on the roof, opened the window and landed gracefully on the other side; his inner wolf happy when it was surrounded by the smell of his mate.

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><p>Stiles slammed his front door shut, he was beyond pissed. He couldn't believe Scott! After everything he did to him yesterday he had the nerve to ignore him! If that wasn't enough, when he saw him before class, Scott had scrunched up his nose and told he <em>smelled<em>! What the hell was that about? How the _hell_ did he smell?

He leaned against the door as his anger faded being quickly replaced by the normal sadness. Why did Scott treat him like that? All Stiles had done all his life was help him, be there for him and Scott always seem to push him away.

He had barely been there when his mother passed, and for the last couple of years he was practically never there. Was Stiles really that bad of a person, that bad of a company that even his best friend didn't want to do anything with him?

The teen hadn't even noticed he was crying until he felt a warm finger brush away a tear on his cheek. Startled he looked up and saw Derek's cloudy eyes looking down at him. His face was pulled into a frown and concern lay heavily in his eyes.

Sniffling, he reached up and wiped his face. Derek took a step back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Let's head up…I guess we still have to talk huh?" the pale teen rubbed the back of his head, squinting one eye.

Derek smirked. "Sorry, but yeah, we still do have to talk." He turned headed to the bedroom. Stiles sighed, dreading the conversation but began the seemingly too short walk to his bedroom.

Walking in to his room, he saw Derek lounging on his computer chair. He smiled slightly; he looked so comfortable and natural there. He closed his door and plopped down on his bed, bringing his knees to his chest.

He saw the lupine frown at the way he sat but didn't pay mind to it. Both of them didn't say a word and the awkward silence was becoming too much for the A.D.H.D boy.

"Derek?" he spoke quietly.

"Yeah?" The wolf was surprised that he was the one to break the silence.

"About last night…C-Can we forget that it happened?" he lowered his gaze, taking a shaky breath. "I-I-it's just that I am too messed up right now. My life is too much and I can't be in a relationship of any kind…Can we just be friends? I need a friend right now and well…you're the only one who knows what is going on. I-I mean you don't have to obviously, it's just that I-I" Sighing he looked up, trying to convey what he wanted through his eyes, hoping Derek understood.

The werewolf listened to the teen's rambling and felt his heart drop. He knew that Stiles would not want anything right now with him but hearing him say it still hurt. He found amusement when he had begun to stutter, he figured he should put him out of his misery.

"Stiles, it's okay. I understand. Last night was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened. I think being friends is the best option for us right now." The lycan hung his head and sighed before continuing." And I want to say that _iamsorry_." The last words were rushed out. He hated apologizing. He was no good at it.

Stiles felt his heart hurt a bit at the fact Derek had said that last night was a mistake but smiled anyways as he had heard the jumbled apology. "Thank you." He whispered.

The dark-haired man stood up and sat next to the quirky teen, stretching his legs out. He looked at his companion out of the corner of his eyes. He crossed his arms behind his head before speaking.

"Tell me about it." He saw him nod slightly, inhaling deeply.

"Six years ago my mother died. She had just picked me up from Scott's house and a car ran his red light and hit us. She died on impact and I was left with only minor bruises and cuts." Stiles brought his legs closer to his chest. "Shortly after burying her, my dad he…he began to drink excessively on the weekends. He would beat me, calling me names blaming me for her death." A tortured sob ripped it way out of his throat. Derek hesitantly reached over and took the kid's hand in his. He was expecting him to pull away but instead he interlaced their fingers, squeezing slightly. Derek smiled to himself; rubbing soothing circles on the younger's hand with his thumb.

"Soon after my dad began to beat me, I began to cut myself. The pain from my mother's death and the beating my dad gave me were too much for me. It was the only way that I release some of the pain inside me." He chuckled humorlessly. "Scott never noticed the bruises, any other injury my father gave me, or even the cuts on my wrists. If he did notice he never said anything. We used to be really close. We would sneak over each other's house and play video games till the unholy hours of the night. We would spend almost every day together. Then a couple years ago he started distancing himself. I don't think he even noticed he was doing it, but I did and it killed me." Stiles closed his eyes, wiping his tears angrily. He was so sick of his life. "Then this whole werewolf shit started and if that wasn't enough Allison moved into town. I try to help Scott with this, I mean it was my entire fault he got bit in the first place-"Derek cut him off there. He sat up and looked into the chocolate eyes he was addicted to.

"It was not your fault Stiles. It is the alpha's fault and only his." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Yes it is. I made him go into the woods that night and left him when my dad found me. Even after all I do for him, I am lucky to talk to him for five minutes on something that isn't related to werewolves. He spends all his time with her. I'm happy for him, really I am, but I mean I miss him. Now my dad seems to be getting worse. He doesn't just beat on the weekends anymore. He beats me whenever he gets the chance, weather he is drunk or sober. I get that I am I reason my life is so shitty. If I hadn't killed my mother then my dad would still love me and wouldn't beat me. Maybe Scott would still act like he did when we were young." Stiles turned his head away from the lycan. He didn't want him to see him crying. He felt arm encircle his waist and this time, unlike last night, he didn't fight it.

Derek shushed him, not really know what else to do, he wasn't used nor was he good at comforting people. He let Stiles cry into his shoulder, only being able to imagine what he must be feeling.

"Stiles, you didn't kill your mother, no matter what your father tells you. It could have happened to anyone. It was not your fault. Your father isn't well but that make it your fault either. None of this is your fault. You are a victim." Pulling away from the hug, Derek looked him in the eyes. "But this…" he grabbed the lacrosse player's damaged wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the scars." it can't happen anymore okay? You can't keep doing this to yourself. I know now and I am here whenever you need to talk. I might not be the greatest friend ever, but I will be there for you. No more of this okay?" Stiles nodded. "Promise me."

"I promise Derek." The wolf searched his eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Satisfied when he found the truth behind the words, he let go of the wrists. He shifted his position so there was more distance between them; being this close to the boy who his wolf claimed as his mate was difficult. The wolf was fighting him to take him again, but Derek refused to threaten any chance of the friendship Stiles was offering him.

Derek spoke again, his voice losing the softness from before now becoming serious. "I will do everything I can to prevent your father from laying a hand on you again. I can promise you that." A small smile lifted Stiles' lips at the protectiveness tone the voice took. "Another thing. You have to tell Scott about this."

Stiles snapped his head to look at the stormy eye, shaking his head furiously from side to side; the motion causing Derek to worry over the risk of him gaining whiplash.

"NO! No…no…no Derek. I'll do _anything_ but that. I will not tell him. He has enough to worry about; he doesn't need to have my troubles looming over his head as well."

The werewolf angered at the words. He growled loudly. Alarmed at the sudden mood change, Stiles tensed as he looked into the pair of shinning electric blue eyes, anger clearly visible.

Derek couldn't believe that Stiles placed such little worth on himself. Scott being his '_best friend'_ should know about this so he can help. Stiles shouldn't have been made to suffer in silence all those years.

"So it's _fair_ for all his problems to be dumped on your shoulders? It's _fair_ for him to continue living happily while you get the short end of the stick? It's _fair_ that you're the one who gets _ignored_, forgotten and pushed around while he has his head _stuck so far up_ the Argent girl's_ ass_ he doesn't see that you are hurting?" Derek stood up at an appalling speed. He paced the small room; he punched the wall near the door leaving a nice sized hole. "God _damn_ it Stiles! You are worth so much more than that! Why do you put up with it? You need to stop putting yourself last and stand up for yourself. _It stops now_. I will not stand for it." Derek kept his back to the boy as he tried to rein in the wolf. He felt a cold hand grab his shoulder and turned around. Stiles hugged him.

"Okay. I'll tell him. Thank you." He felt the taller male nod minutely and wrap his arms around him. Stiles pulled away, feeling a little uncomfortable. He went back to the bed and resumed his earlier position, waiting for Derek to join him.

"Why do you do that?" Derek asked him as he walked to the bed.

"Do what?" the boy furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Sit that way. It almost seems like you are holding yourself together. Like you are protecting yourself, like if you let go you'll crumple." Stiles' eyes widen.

"Why do you ask if you know the answer?"

Derek sat on edge of the bed. He kind of figured he had guessed right. "I can't go back to my house. Since Scott decided to tell the police that I was the one who attacked you at the school, they send patrol cars regularly to my house. I almost got caught this morning. It's too risky"

Stiles nodded in understanding. "You can stay here with me. No one would think that the sheriff's son would be harboring a wanted fugitive. You can do whatever you want during the day since the house is empty."

Derek turned slightly, and flashed the teen a rare smile filled with gratitude. Stiles was stunned. He couldn't remember ever seeing him smile. The most he ever did was smirk. He cursed his heart when it started to beat a little faster and glared at the lycan when the smile widened even more as a result.

"Besides it'll give us time to work on this whole friendship thing." Stiles couldn't help but smile back at him as the words left his mouth, blushing slightly.

"Yeah…I guess it will." Derek responded quietly.

"One more question." Derek nodded motioning for him to continue.

"Do I smell? Scott said I smelled today."

Derek merely barked out a laugh as he watched as Stiles scrunched up his nose. He was glad that Scott didn't know how to identify the smell of sex yet.

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><p><strong>So Derek and Stiles are friends now…any one disappointed? :P<strong>

**I am hoping everyone caught on to what Scott had smelled on Stiles. :P**

**Well school starts up tomorrow so reviews will defiantly be a lot slower. I am taking all advanced classes this year alongside after school activities and my job so finding free time will be difficult but I'll try to update at least one every 2 weeks. Please bear with me.**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Review!**

**Marie~**


	7. Chapter 7: Lesson One

**Update is finally here!**

**So sorry that it took so long!**

**Chapter Seven: Lesson One**

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><p>Stiles walked into his room, chucking his backpack near his desk and let himself fall on his bed instantly regretting it when his back protested against the decision.<p>

"Fuck! How the_ hell_ does that still hurt?" he grumbled to himself turning to lie on his side. He raised his eyes to look at the photo of his mother, the corners of his lips lifting ever so slightly at her smiling face.

"It's going to hurt for a while." A husky voice answered his rhetorical question.

His heart skipped a beat at the unexpected voice. He lifted his upper body, resting his weight on his elbows.

"I know...it's happened before...where were you? I didn't see you downstairs." his eyes followed Derek as he went to sit on floor by his window.

"I was there. How are you feeling?" the lycan stared at the brunette, smiling sadly every time he saw him glance at the picture of his mother.

"The truth?"

"The truth." he confirmed. Stiles sighed, unaccustomed to being open with his feelings.

"I'm feeling _hollow_, Derek. What do you expect? I feel numb." He turned on his side, back facing the lycan, not wanting him to see him anymore weak then he already had. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder but didn't turn around or give any sign of recognition.

"Stiles, it's okay to feel like this. You don't have to hide this from me."

The pale teen rolled over again locking eyes with the stormy ones of the black-haired man.

"It's not that simple Derek! I have spent the better part of my life dealing with this on _my own_. You have to understand this isn't easy for me. I am not going to just open up to you instantly." The brown eyes watered but the lycanthrope's face remained passive. He sat down next to the crying boy, grabbing his colder hand in his own, interlacing their fingers together.

"I know. But I am here now. You don't have to deal with it alone anymore, but you need to at least try to open up." He cleared his throat "What are you doing home so early anyways? You and Scott have practice every day."

Stiles let his thumb trace random patterns on the bigger hand that held his. He figured that it was okay for them to hold hands as long it didn't escalate above that. The action seemed to calm them both down. He squeezed the hand gently before speaking.

"We do, I am supposed to be there now, but I suck so I figured why go? I'm thinking of quitting anyways…"

"No."

"What do you mean no? I can damn well quit if I want to! You can't stop me!" he sat up, angered with the way Derek sounded so commanding.

"I meant what I said. If you quit the lacrosse team then you are just putting yourself down more. You are turning into shell of the man I know you to be. Lacrosse is a part of you and I will not let you give up. I won't _allow_ it. You are _not _quitting."

Stiles huffed in annoyance, removing his hand form the warmth of the werewolf's.

"In fact…" Derek continued "we are going to start practicing every day. Starting now."

The brunette's mouth fell open, eyes widen and Derek was surprised he kept himself from laughing at the sight.

"Now?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Now." The werewolf smirked, getting up and picked up the both lacrosse sticks that were in the kid's closet, throwing them on the bed next to the stunned teen. "Get what you need and come downstairs in five minutes." He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, chuckling softly at the boy's muffled stutters of confusion.

Stiles sat on his bed for a good minute or two completely confused with the turn of events. Eventually a small smile graced his face. He had never seen this side of Derek before, and granted while he like his gruff attitude he like this side as well. Turning slightly he looked at his mom, once more, hope bubbling in his chest.

Getting up, he changed into more comfortable clothes and got the things he would need and walked downstairs.

"Ready?" Derek asked, leaning against the front door. At the other's nod he stood up straight, fixed his leather jacket, and took the leading by walking outside to the baby blue jeep. He turned around and held his hand out expectantly for the keys.

Stiles looked from his hand to his face, his keys grasped firmly in his hands. The hand shook impatiently and Stiles let out a small whimper as he handed them to him, a pained look on his face. Derek snorted at him.

"_Really_?" watching as his face went from pained to defensive.

"Hey! You would do the same if it was your Camaro! Just be careful. Veronica is my baby." At this the lycan broke out in laughter. He had named his car!

The sound of Derek's laughter caused Stiles' heart to clench but he didn't know why; all he knew was he loved the sound and wished he heard it more often.

Sighing, he walked over to the passenger side and got in, throwing all his lacrosse things in the back.

Once they were on the road, the brown-eyed teen leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes.

Scott had ignored him again today_. 'Asshole' _

Shouldn't Stiles be the one ignoring him for the way he has acted not the other way around? Scott was the one acting like a piece of crap friend not him…or was he? Had he done something to deserve losing his best friend as well? Everything was his fault anyways…

He smiled humorlessly to himself. Yes, everything was his fault. He raised his eyes to look at the blue sky as it flew past them, his thoughts taking a turn for the worse.

One week.

One week and it would be exactly seven years since the day he had killed his mother. Since the day his mother died because of him.

'_Seven years' _He let the words float in his head causing his chest to tighten painfully. Unconsciously, his right hand moved to his left one. Pushing the sleeve up he rubbed his wrist, his nails scratching against it, trying to get some relief.

_Seven years..._

_Seven years of pain. _

The nails dug a little deeper.

_Seven years of aloneness._

A little more pressure added

_Seven years of abuse._

His brain registered a spike of pain.

_Seven years of hatred from himself, from his father._

The familiar stinging was felt.

_Seven years of hopelessness._

_Seven years..._

He barely registered the warm liquid he felt on his finger tips.

He felt a stray tear trail down his cheek and quickly wiped it away, not wanting to Derek to see it, not noticing he had smudged his cheek with red or that the car had stopped moving.

Derek hadn't smelled the blood until it was too late. Stopping the car on the side of the road, he grabbed the pale chin between two of his fingers, a growl building in his chest as he saw the little streak of red.

"What did you do?" He watched as the hazy look in his eyes disappeared before the brown eyes looked down at his wrist, his own eyes following. He let out a quiet growl at the sight.

"I-I-I didn't mean to Derek…I-I-I swear…I don't ev-even remember doing this is…" the teen tried to explain, his brain trying to find out when he did this, looking at his other hand seeing two of his fingertips cover in blood.

Derek sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. He was more broken than he let on. The cut itself wasn't bad. He bad barely cut skin but cut deep enough that some blood had spilled. Ripping a piece of his shirt, he wiped the blood on his check first followed by his wrist and fingers. He grabbed the chin once more, forcing their eyes to meet, and his own heart throbbing painfully at the pain the brown eyes held.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to. You are going to get better okay? We'll work on this." He let his thumb rub the pale cheek only removing his hand when Stiles nodded. Turning back, he grabbed the teen's hand in his own, starting the car again. He didn't push him to talk because he could sense that no matter how hard he pushed he wasn't going to tell him what caused him to react that way. He knew if he pushed too hard, it would only make things worse.

Squeezing the hand gently, he drove the jeep into the woods as far he could, trying to get away from society so he wouldn't be spotted.

Figuring they were far away enough, he turned off the jeep. He glanced once more at the boy sitting next him before climbing out, Stiles following his lead. He stood by the Veronica's hood, waiting as the other one grabbed the stuff they would need. Once they were close enough together, he grabbed his hand again and they walked to a clearing in the woods.

"Derek?" the hoarse voiced reverted throughout the woods. Derek only hummed in response.

"Do you even know how to play lacrosse?" he highly doubted the wolf did, but then again he had gone to the same high-school as him.

Derek looked at him, a glimmer of happiness in his gray eyes.

"Yes, I do. I was first line back when I went to Beacon Hills." He smiled his rare smile as Stiles' mouth once again dropped open. "This is why I know the first thing you have to have to be on first line is have speed. So give me 10 laps around the clearing."

"Seriously? Come on, dude! Coach doesn't even make us do that!" Stiles argued as he let his gym bag with the lacrosse gear fall beside him. The wolf walked toward him, bending down to pick one of the two sticks. He raised his eyebrow and titling his head to the clearing. Stiles huffed but didn't argue any more as he began to jog along the edge of the clearing.

"Run don't jog!" Derek yelled at him, smiling when his younger companion flipped him off, but sped up either way.

"Fuck you, Hale!"

'_You already did...'_ Derek retorted in his mind, twirling the stick in his hand. He hadn't held one in such a long time, the lacrosse stick bringing memories of his past he would rather keep buried. Grabbing a few balls he threw them in front of him and began to fire shots at a tree, revealing in the familiarity of the power behind his throws.

Running out of balls, he went over to the tree and picked them up and walked to the center of the clearing lying down on the grass as he waited for he quirky teen to finish up.

Stiles glared at the wolf the entire time he ran the clearing. His lungs were on fire but he finished the ten laps either way, tumbling down next to the wolf to catch his breath.

"I….hate…..you….so…..much….right…now" he managed to gasp out between pants.

"I know, get up." The werewolf replied easily, getting up to his feet. Stiles only groaned in annoyance.

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><p>The groan from the brunette was muffled by the pillow as he fell on his bed exhausted and sore as hell. Three hours! Three freaking hours of training with Derek. His whole body felt like jelly.<p>

"That was lesson one." Derek told him as he placed the lacrosse equipment back in the messy closet.

He turned to lie on his back as Derek sat on his computer chair.

"Lesson one? What are you talking about?" He questioned, officially believing the wolf had lost his mind…maybe that ball he threw at his head as revenge before they left the clearing hadn't been the best idea…

"Yes, lesson one: No more giving up. You are not going to give up anymore. You are not going to give on anything anymore. If you want it you are going to fight for it. You were going to quit despite the fact that you love it, but you are not anymore because I am going to help you. You are not going to give up."

Stiles didn't know how to respond to that so he simply smiled in gratitude.

Deciding it was late, both males got ready for bed. Stiles let Derek use his shower first and let him borrow one of his bigger t-shirts to sleep in. He jumped in the shower after the wolf.

As he waited for the water to heat up once more he looked at his wrist still not being able to comprehend how he had done that to himself. Jumping in the shower, he quickly washed off all the dirt and sweat from the training time he had with the lycanthrope. He dressed before going to his bedroom, falling clumsily onto his bed. He turned so he could face his mother before closing his eyes.

Derek shut off the lights as Stiles fell asleep on his bed. He sprawled himself on the floor next to the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. His thoughts drifting to the snoring teenage boy.

He couldn't figure out what had caused Stiles to act the way he had in the car. How he had even managed to cut himself with his nails. He would get to the bottom of it.

He would help the boy he loved get through this stage in his life, even if it was the last thing he did.

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><p><strong>So i want to apologize especially to the readers of this story for the long wait. I know out of all my storied you guys have suffered the longest waist almost a month i think.<strong>

**I'll try to update quicker next time :)**

**My Mate will updated next and maybe The Tunes Of Life since i recently got inspired!**

**Thanks you for reading and your patience!**

**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8: 1 Step Forward, 2 Steps Back

**Ok****ay guys, here is chapter eight, hope you guys like it!**

**Just a couple of _warnings_: Extreme angst, self-harm, abuse.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back...I can't be fixed.<strong>

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><p>Stiles walked down the crowded hallways of the school, his muscles aching and sore from the extensive hours of "practice sessions" with Derek. He couldn't help but sigh at the fact that he had only had two practices with him, and he was about ready to die.<p>

"Stupid, wicked-good-at-lacrosse asshat…" he grumbled under his breath.

Despite the pains his body was supporting he felt…better. He felt almost okay. He couldn't deny that spending time with the wolf, forming a friendship with him was helping him. He was nowhere near being happy but he was almost okay.

Lifting his head to look where he was going, he spotted Scott tensely standing at his locker with Jackson next to him, a smug expression on his face.

What the hell?

Completely forgetting the fact that they were ignoring each other, he walked up to them.

"Hey Scott." He would have laughed at the way Jackson's smug smile was wiped off his face if it wasn't for the fact that Scott shot him a grateful, worried look.

"Remember what I said, McCall." Jackson threatened his friend, locking his eyes with Stiles before storming away. As soon as the jock was far away enough, Stiles lifted his gaze to meet Scott's briefly; he shifted his bag on his shoulder and turned to walk away.

"Stiles, wait!" the brunette felt Scott's slightly bigger hand land on his shoulder; he flinched instinctively at the touch but didn't turn around.

"What?" he snapped at him, not really being able to even attempt hiding the resentment he felt.

"Why did you do that? You know, come over and save me from Jackson."

The pale teen scoffed and rolled his eyes despite the fact that Scott couldn't see the motion. When Stiles didn't turn around to face him, Scott dropped his hand to the boy's wrist and tugged it back, trying to force him to turn around; his eyebrows shot up to his hairline when he heard his friend's sharp hiss of pain as he yanked his arm away, cradling the wrist to his chest.

"Look, Scott, just because you are being a bad friend, doesn't mean I have to be one too. Just because I am no longer important to you, doesn't mean you are not important to me."

He blinked rapidly trying to make the tears disappear before the teen wolf smelled them. The loud shrill of the bell sounded around them, but neither boy moved. Scott's face twisted into a grimace, he knew he was being a bad friend; he knew he was distancing himself from the other teen, but he didn't know why.

"I'm sorry, it's just all this werewolf crap has me going crazy and I'm sorry about what happened during the full moon, that wasn't me. You know I would never say those things to you, nor would I ever kiss Lydia." The dark-haired teen apologized, his brown eyes pleading and sad.

Stiles studied him and he knew that no matter what happened between them, he would always think of Scott as a brother, even if it was only a "one-way street". Besides, all their fights were ultimately his fault, so he couldn't really blame him. He let out a sigh and plastered a fake smile on his face as he threw one of his arms around Scott's shoulders.

"It's fine, man. Already forgotten. I knew things have been hard for you lately. What did Jackson want anyway? You looked like if someone had stolen you favorite chew toy."

Stiles cracked a real smile when Scott glared at him, a scowl etched on his face. The tanned teen shrugged of his friend's arm and shoved him lightly to the side. He began to walk to the lacrosse field, figuring they might as well skip the rest of first period.

"He knows, I don't know how he knows but he knows."

Stiles stayed quiet for a moment.

"Did he say it? You know…werewolf…" he asked, knowing that sometimes Scott would panic and jump to conclusions. Maybe the blonde didn't even really know.

"No, but he implied it pretty freakin' clearly. Have you heard from Derek at all? He'd know what to do."

Scott pushed the back doors of the school open, walking towards the center of the field and plopping unceremoniously on to the grass. Stiles carefully sat down next to him, hyper-aware of the soreness of his muscles. He didn't want to give away Derek's presence yet, he wasn't sure why but he wanted to keep the wolf to himself for a little bit longer. It was selfish, he knew that, but the lycan gave him an escape from his harsh reality, he offered him a friend.

"No, I haven't, but you know him; he's probably out chasing rabbits or killing Bambi." He was glad that Scott hadn't detected his obvious lie, and let out a small chuckle at the image he just created for himself. He could only imagine the reaction he would have gotten from the lupine.

Scott chuckled at Stiles' weird sense of humor; he turned his head to look at him from the corners of his eyes.

"Hey, man….what's been up with you lately? You haven't been as….chipper." He frowned when he heard the way his friend's heart rate soared.

The brunette didn't know what to say. This was the perfect opportunity to tell him; like Derek wanted him to but…he wasn't ready. Plus, Scott really didn't need to worry about him despite what Derek said. His friend didn't need the extra stress of knowing that he had an abusive father who beat the living crap out him or that he caused himself harm or that he had slept with Derek, or that he was a complete and total mess. So, he denied it.

"I don't know. Probably just teen hormones, teen angst and what not. Just drop it." He turned his gaze to the forest trying to ignore the way he felt Scott's eyes burn a hole in the back of his head, but was glad when Scott said no more.

The two teens fell silent after that, each one lost in their own thoughts only coming back to the real world when the bell rang for second period.

"I'll let you know if I hear from sour wolf, okay? Let me know if anything else happens with Jackson." Stiles mumbled as he dusted off his light gray jeans.

"Sure." Scott agreed as he walked toward the school building, Stiles not too far behind him. The pale teen smiled, feeling even better than before now that he had fixed things with Scott.

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><p>Stiles hand tightened on the steering wheel as he drove home, his mood plummeting down from where it had been throughout the day, his eyes tearing up as he listened to the words that flowed through the speakers.<p>

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
>When you get what you want, but not what you need<br>When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
>Stuck in reverse<em>

A sob left him and he cursed whatever high power was set on making his life miserable. This was his mother's favorite song…she used to sing it to him whenever he was feeling sad, only back then he never truly knew what being sad felt like. Now he did and he never thought that he would hate the song as much as he did now.

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
>When you lose something you can't replace<br>When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
>Could it be worse?<em>

He honestly didn't know how it could get any worse for him. He had already lost his mother, he had lost his dad, now only being left with a stranger in his place, he was losing his best friend and somewhere inside him a nagging voice told him Derek would eventually leave him as well. Everyone left him. He sniffled as he angrily wiped away the tears that blurred his vision.

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

He let out a dry, broken laugh. There was no fixing him. This was him, this is what was left. No amount of lacrosse practice, no amount of _"Derek Lessons_", no amount of venting would ever fix him. The old Stiles _died_ when his mother left.

_And high up above or down below  
>When you're too in love to let it go<br>But if you never try you'll never know  
>Just what you're worth<em>

Another sob left him, why did it feel like this was his mother speaking to him? She knew he could never let her go, and she knew _he wasn't worth anything_. He was a _burden_ to everyone. He was burden to his father, a burden to Scott and a burden to Derek.

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

_Tears stream down on your face  
>When you lose something you cannot replace<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<em>

He parked his Veronica in the empty driveway, leaning his head against the steering wheel as he cried, hoping, and praying that Derek wasn't inside to hear him break down again. He brought his right hand once again to his left one, unknowingly, and began to scratch at the scabbed-over jagged wound. He only had three days to prepare for the seventh-year anniversary of his mother's death. He wasn't ready to face that day, but then again he was never ready. It was the worse day of the year.

_Lights will guide you home  
>And ignite your bones<br>And I will try to fix you_

_Tears stream down on your face  
>When you lose something you cannot replace<br>Tears stream down on your face  
>And I...<em>

He punched the dashboard in frustration and cut off the engine as the song ended, only then noticing he had reopened the cut. He looked at it but he felt no guilt for doing it. He didn't care that he had promised Derek he wouldn't do it anymore. It had felt _good_ and in retrospect he hadn't actually cut himself, he had simply reopened an old one. He let his slightly bloodied fingertips run over the sensitive skin, only slightly flinching when he pressed to hard against it. The wound wasn't really bleeding heavily but it was bleeding enough to trail down the corners of his wrist and drip down to his car seats. He smiled sadly, pitying himself. He grabbed his backpack from the back and put his headphones on and searched for the song he had just been listening to in his IPod, not knowing why he loved to torture himself so much. Finding it, he turned the volume up to the point it almost caused him pain to listen, trying to make the outside world fade away.

He got out of his car and went to his bedroom, throwing his backpack somewhere in the mess of his room. He went to the bathroom and turned on the sink. He gently washed the drying blood off his wrist and fingers, his eyes briefly glancing at the drawer that contained his blade; debating on whether or not he should get it. He shook his head slightly, causing some tears to fall again as he dried off his hands. He walked slowly back to his bedroom and sat down on his computer chair, facing the window.

He was relieved that the werewolf seemed to be nowhere around as he let himself cry more heavily. He could have told Scott today but he was a coward and chicken out. His unclear vision fell on to his mother's picture and the rare burst of anger towards her flared within him. He got up and grabbed the picture frame, staring at it stoically for a moment, the same song still blasting through his ears. His heart was overcome with flames and he huffed out a breath, reeling his arm back he hurled the picture at the wall, crumpling to the floor when it the glass shattered. He was so into his misery he didn't hear the cop cruiser pulling into the house, or the front door slamming, or the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs until he felt the weight and force of the familiar boot against his back as it sent him flying to the same wall he had thrown his mother not a minute before, his iPod and headphones falling next to him.

His breath left him all at once and the teen tried to heave some air before the next blow. He closed his eyes, just waiting for it be done with. He didn't feel the kicks, he didn't feel the punch to his jaw or the way his father slammed him against the wall, causing black spots to taint his vision. He didn't feel how some of the glass from the picture frame had dug into his legs and hands when he landed on it.

He didn't hear his father's screams or insults; his didn't hear the accusations yelled at him. He didn't hear his father's cell phone go off as he was called back to the station and he didn't feel the final kick that was delivered to his stomach.

He was just blissfully numb, blissfully empty.

He stayed on the floor, next to his glass-covered mother for while after his father pulled out of the driveway. Eventually he glanced down at her picture and moved the glass off her, ignoring the way some rough edged shards cut him. He picked up the photograph and whispered a quiet sorry to her. He slowly stood up and placed her on his desk before letting himself fall onto his bed, not bothering to pick up the mess or clean himself up. He pulled the covers over him and closed his eyes. If he was this bad three days prior to his mother death date, he didn't know how he was going to make it through the actual day.

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><p>Derek ran through the forest, not quite believing what he had discovered today. It didn't make any sense but at the same time it did.<p>

He saw the edge of woods close by and ran a little quicker, knowing he should have been back at Stiles' house by now. He was late and he didn't want the brunette thinking he had left.

Coming out of the woods, he pulled up the hoodie of the sweater he wore under his leather jacket as he walked the nearly empty streets of the small town. He was happy with the way things were going with the lacrosse player. He seemed to be making progress, very little progress but it was still something. During their practices, or as the quirky teen like to call them: "torture sessions", Derek had seen a spark of life, of hope in the brown eyes. Not only that, but even though they had only practiced twice, the teen was already improving in his skills.

There was something that kept on nagging the lycan in the pit of his stomach. There was something the younger teen wasn't telling him. He knew it had to be connected to the incident in the car, but he couldn't figure out what could have caused him to do what he did.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he continued to walk. He wanted to go hunt down Scott and punish him for being an idiot, for wasting, using and throwing way the friendship of the brunette. He wanted to tell him how much of a moron he was for not noticing the things Stiles went through. For six years, Stiles had gone through this and Derek just couldn't believe the pup had not noticed.

He began to smell the faint scent of the Stilinski household, as he let his mind wonder to his own family. He missed them terribly. He felt lost without them and today's discovery only made him feel worse. He had been so stupid for falling for Kate. How had he not known she was a hunter? He missed Laura the most, maybe because her death was the most recent and since the decimation of their family, they had been each other's support system. He regretted not telling her about Kate.

He stopped walking as he smelled blood.

More specifically Stiles' blood mixed with the scent of salt-water.

He lifted his head to find himself already in front of house. He quickly scaled the house up to Stiles' window and jumped in. His heart stopped and his wolf growled as he inspected the sight he was met with.

The faux leather computer chair was thrown, there was glass shattered near one of the walls with a broken picture frame next to it. There were specks of blood on the glass and the rug. Panic surged through him as he quickly turned his attention to the steady beating of the younger male's heart. Walking over to the bed, he pulled down the covers, only to have a pale hand grab the sheet.

"Leave me alone." The voice was a hoarse, soft whisper but it held so much pain it _scared_ Derek.

"You know I can't do that." He spoke just as softly.

"You will. Everyone eventually does." The voice was so hollow. The wolf pulled on the covers again, pleased when the teen let him this time. He placed his hand on one of the shoulders and pulled him so he could see his face. He took in the bruise forming on his lower jaw and the split lip and growled.

"_**He**_ did this?" Stiles minutely nodded, adverting his eyes.

Derek growled his eyes flashing blue in anger. He hadn't been here to protect him like he promised. He had let the teen be hurt again and it seemed any progress they had made was lost. The chocolate eyes were _empty_. Derek sat down on the bed, trying to find out where the smell of blood was coming from.

Stiles watched as the werewolf's eyes scanned over him and stuck out his hurt wrist, knowing that was what he was looking for. When the werewolf grabbed his wrist he spoke,

"Some of the glass cut my arms and legs. That's where the blood on floor and glass came from." He offered as an explanation.

"What happened?" he asked angrily at seeing so much damaged done to him. He hated seeing the small improvements they had made be lost.

Stiles closed his eyes briefly before sitting up.

"I'm going to get cleaned up." He ignored the wolf's question and he slowly made his way to his bathroom, bringing some shorts and t-shirt with him.

Derek let him go, knowing he needed some time by himself. When he heard the bathroom door click shut and the lock turn, he shot up from the bed and punched the wall.

"_**Damn it!"**_

He breathed heavily, listening to the shuddering breaths and sobs that floated to his sensitive ears from the bathroom. He sighed, feeling like crying himself but he denied himself the luxury of releasing his own torment over the boy's situation.

He walked to the broken glass and picked up the shards and the broken picture frame, making a mental note to get him a new one, and threw them in the trash can next to the wooden desk. He picked up the computer chair, placing it where it belonged, a picture capturing his attention. He picked up the photo he had seen on the night table many times before.

The browned-haired woman that Stiles loved so much smiled back at him, standing in the background was a smaller version of the teen poking his tongue out at the camera. The similarity between the two was extraordinary. He smiled slightly at the image, knowing how much pain the woman must be in as she watched her son's life every day.

"I'm trying to help him," he whispered, feeling more than a little ridiculous as he talked into the empty room, but knowing the woman was listening. "It is proving to be harder than I thought, but I am not going to give up. I am not leaving your son; I love him very much, even if he doesn't know it. I'll get him out of here, I promise you that."

He placed the photograph back where he found it, his ears catching the sound of faint music. He followed the sound to the iPod where the glass had previously been. He picked it up and noticed the song had been placed on repeat. He knew this song had to have some sort of significance to the teen so he listened to it, his heart clenching at the words that hit too close to home for his comfort. He turned the device off, reclaiming his spot on the bed; he rested his elbows on his knees, and placed his head on his hands as he continued to listen to the unremitting sobs of the younger male. He sighed and stayed in the same position as he waited for the broken male to come back out.

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><p><strong>I cannot even begin to describe how hard this was to write. This was not how I planned this chapter to go, I had already finished writing this chapter but then my iPod began to play "Fix You" by Coldplay, and I knew I had to incorporate the song somehow into the story so I added it to this chapter and cut off the original part of it. Lucky for you guys, that means the next chapter is already written :) <strong>

**For readers of My Mate****, the story will be updated this weekend as well. **

**For readers of The Alpha and His Pack, in the last chapter posted, I said the poll I am running will close on _10/22/11_ but that was a typo. It will be closed on **_**10/11/11**_**. So make sure you vote!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Explaining

**Here you go guys! Chapter Nine!**

**I want to say thank for the amazing response you guys have given me for this story!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back...I Can't Be Fixed Part Two<strong>

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><p>Stiles sobbed under the spray of water, hugging his knees to his chest. This day had been so fucking horrible, he felt drained and he felt empty. Any good emotions he had felt during the school day had vanished leaving him hollow and miserable. He rested his head against the cold shower titles, letting out a loud, gut-wrenching scream pouring every emotion he ever felt, every frustration he had ever dealt, every betrayal, every abandonment.<p>

The scream didn't do anything but make his throat raw. Shakily, he got up to his feet, dolorous sobs still escaping him, his tears mixing with the water. He slowly scrubbed his body cleaned, his mind blank, not wanting to reflect or think about anything right now.

He got out and dried his body, inspecting the new bruises he knew he had acquired. He started at his leg where he had been feeling a stinging sensation every time the water hit him there. There was a good size gash there and the skin was red and swollen but surprisingly it was not bleeding. His eyes moved up to his stomach and saw his old healing bruises mixed in with new black patches of skin. Looking back at himself in the mirror he raised a shaky hand to touch his jaw, gently prodding his chin and ran his fingers over his spilt lip. He didn't even bother turning around to check his back for he knew that it must be just as bad.

His brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he took in his battered appearance in mirror; he gave a watery, bitter smile, he hated how every time he looked in the mirror he always saw his body covered in discolorations. He fucking hated it! He fucking hated his dad! He fucking hated his life! He fucking hated himself. He didn't even register the fact he had brought his fist down on the mirror until he heard Derek's worried yells on the other side of the door.

"Stiles! What was that! Are you okay? Open the fucking door!" The wolf's voiced echoed around him and he brought his bloodied hand to his eyes and let out a startled gasp; he grabbed the sink, trying to keep his balance. "Why do I smell blood? Damn it, Stiles, open the door!" The relentless knocking became louder.

"I'm fine…I'll be out in minute" he yelled back, his voice trembling.

"Stiles-"

"I said I'll be out in a minute!"

He heard the werewolf's angry snarl but the knocking stopped. As quickly as he could he cleaned up the crimson colored glass and took out an ACE bandage and some gauze. Washing away the blood, he found the wound wasn't as bad he thought it had been; there were really only two major gashes. He placed gauze on it and quickly wrapped it.

Knowing Derek was growing impatient; he dressed and stepped out only to be instantly wrapped in strong arms as the wolf inspected him.

"What the hell happened in there?" his blue eyes held Stiles' brown ones holding him incapable of lying.

"I punched the mirror; it shattered and cut my hand." He brought up the wrapped hand to show him. Derek looked at the hand and back at him, gently taking it in his hands.

"You punched the mirr-why would you do that?" Stiles yanked his arm back from the lycan's grasp and went to sit on his bed.

"I didn't realize I had done it, until I heard your screaming…I'm okay, just please drop it okay? It won't happen again, it's just been a bad day, and I guess I finally cracked." He gave a sour laugh at the understatement.

"What the hell happened today? You were getting better, what caused all of this?" Derek asked as he took the boys hands in his own.

The brunette looked down at their hands, letting them go after a moment. He walked past the wolf and went to his desk, picking up his mother's picture. He set it back down and turned to the lycan, looking him in the eyes for a second before turning again to face the window. He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned against the wall.

"I talked to Scott today, we fixed things." He paused, unsure how the wolf was going to take the next bit of information. "Jackson…he knows about werewolves. He confronted Scott; he didn't say how he knew just that he knew." He closed his brown eyes, waiting for the wolf to say something.

"Did you tell him? Scott, I mean, about what's happening?" he growled when the teen shook his head no. "Why not?"

"I was going to, but he was too worried about everything. I couldn't do that to him." He spoke quietly, still not moving from his position.

"We discussed this!" when he got no response, he snarled angrily. "That's it. I'll tell him myself." He had barely taken a step towards the door, when he felt the weight of Stiles' hand on his shoulder.

"Please, don't. I'll tell him soon. Just not now. At least give me until the whole Jackson thing blows over, okay?"

Derek looked him, seeing the fear and pleading in his light brown eyes.

"Fine, you have until the next full moon. If you don't talk, I will and trust me if I tell him, he is not going to come out uninjured."

Stiles shakily nodded. "Okay. Fine…Do you want to watch a movie with me downstairs?" he asked, his brown eyes pleading for the distraction.

He really just wanted to have a normal night after the hell he suffered in the afternoon. He wanted to spend some alone time with the person who had been helping him as of late.

Derek couldn't have hid the shock that took over his face even if he had tried. He wanted to push the teen into revealing what had happened with his dad, get details, get him to tell him what made him crack today, where all the progress they made had gone went. Instead, he settles for a sharp nod, opened the door and walked out of the room.

"You pick the movie; I'll get us something to drink." He called over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs, the teen slowly and painfully making his way down behind him. Derek would have offered to carry him, but he knew the brunette hated when he did things like that.

He heard the shuffling of DVD cases as he picked something out of the fridge. He placed the two soda cans he chose on the counter, resting his hands on the edge. His bowed his head and was surprised when he felt a tear roll down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, he hadn't cried since the night of the fire. He gave a low growl in frustration at everything that was going on. He hated that it seemed like he wasn't doing anything to help the boy. Everything he did seemed so insignificant compared to everything else that happened. The kid punched a fucking mirror today! He hadn't noticed he did until Derek started to freak out over the scent of blood.

He didn't like seeing his mate so unhappy, so broken and his wolf hated it even more. If it wasn't for the fact that Stiles would not like it if he killed the Sheriff, Derek would have already. And he would have enjoyed every bloody minute of it.

The teen couldn't live here anymore. That much was obvious, but he didn't have anywhere to take him. He couldn't and wouldn't bring him to his house. It was much too dangerous for a human and it want like they could they even could. Not with the police constantly there. Maybe it was time to finally use some his inheritance…

"Derek? The movie's all set!"

He shook his head slightly, deciding to finish his thoughts at a later time. He grabbed the drinks and walked over to the living. He stopped when he saw what the teen had picked out.

"Twilight? Are you friggin' kidding me?" he growled out, as he glared at the sheepish looking Stiles. He growled once more before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch Stiles was on, resting on arm across the back of it.

Stiles pressed play and quickly glanced at the werewolf sitting close but at the same time too far away from him. He didn't know why but he wanted to be closer to him. He needed the comfort that Derek provided him; he was becoming dependent on it.

"Can I-I...I-I mean d-do yo-yo mind if…" he stuttered, blushing faintly in embarrassment. Derek looked at him curiously before understanding lit his face.

He chuckled lightly and yanked the teen to his side, resting the buzzed-cut head on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around the lean waist.

Stiles eyes widened at the sudden movement and his cheeks burned a brighter red. Hesitantly, he shifted as he tried to get comfortable; he knew that _friends_ didn't hold each other like this when they watched a movie. He knew that _friends_ didn't get attacked by butterflies as their _friend_ tightened their grip on their waist and pressed their cheek to the top of their head. But even if he and Derek were only friends, it didn't stop the _rightness_ he felt at being in Derek's arms like this, nor did it stop him from gently grabbing the werewolf's other hand, aware of the throbbing that was emitting from the wrapped hand, in his as he snuggled deeper into him. The pain he felt all over his body because of the weight he putting on the bruises didn't compare to the peace he felt at being held like this.

Derek pretended to watch the ridiculous movie that was playing but his attention was really on the fast-beating heart of Stiles and the scent of happiness he was emitted. He smiled, a true smile, and rested his cheek on the other's head, his grip on the waist tightening. He was genuinely surprised when the teen had, not only let this intimate moment happen between them, but had actually been the one to request it; after all he was the one who wanted to be friends. He heard the teen take in a large gust of air, but before the Stiles could talk, Derek spoke first.

"I am the reason, or the very least play a big part, in why Jackson knows…When I was shot with wolf-banes, I asked him where Scott was…he annoyed me and when I slammed him into the lockers I hadn't noticed my hands had shifted and my claws went into his neck."

Stiles was shocked. He would have never thought Derek would be the one to lose control.

"Are those what the marks on the back of his neck are?" he questioned and he felt the wolf nod and hum in response. Stiles wanted to say something to reassure the wolf that it was out of his control but the wolf interrupted him…again.

"I was out searching for the alpha all day today. That's why I wasn't here when you got home. I caught his scent near your house and followed it to the other side of town. It led to the Beacon Hills Long Term Care Clinic. The alpha scent changed…it became my uncle's. My uncle is the alpha." He heard the frustrated and pained sigh the wolf let out and he just couldn't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling. "It had been so obvious! How did I not see it before! Fuck, he killed Laura."

Stiles didn't say anything for a good minute or two. He just sat there. Derek's uncle was the alpha…and he had killed Laura. He squeezed the wolf's hand, wincing at the pain that flared up through his arm, offering what little support he could.

"I'm sorry Derek…but you couldn't have known. We'll think of something…" he felt the wolf nod. Stiles chewed his bottom lip nervously, he felt obligated to share what had happened now. Derek would probably think he was weak and stupid for letting something like a song affect him so much.

"When I was driving home…my mom's favorite song started to play and I…I just cracked. I had been feeling good during the day and then I just cracked. I couldn't do it….I blocked out everything. I couldn't hear, couldn't see or even talk. I scratch the cut on my wrist and reopened it…I didn't even feel myself doing it. When I came into my room, after washing the cut, I saw my mom and I felt angry…angry at her for leaving and angry at myself for making her leave. I threw her picture at the wall…" He took a shaky breath as his redden eyes filled with tears again. He leaned in closer to the warmth that was coming off of Derek and continued.

"I didn't hear him coming or come into my room. The only thing I did feel was the first kick. After that, it was like I wasn't there. I saw him yelling at me, I saw the hate in his eye and I saw every kick and punch but I didn't feel any of it. After he left I crawled into bed and you came in two minutes later…" He turned his head up to meet the wolf's concerned and pained eyes.

"I'm s-sorry Derek… I know how much of b-burden I am to you…but pl-please just don't leave. Not yet…I need you…you help me feel better I-I" His body shook as let out a muffled sob, the hand that was once holding the larger man's hand was now tightly wrapped in his shirt.

Derek's inner wolf whimpered at seeing him like this, begging for someone to care about him. He brought his hand and stroked the pale, wet cheek affectionately.

"You are not a burden. If you were, I would have followed through with my threats long ago. I am not going anywhere. I will be here for as long as you want me. I should be the one apologizing for not being there today. I should have stopped him…I should have done something." Stiles saw the regret in his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault." He whispered, locking eyes with Derek again, his mind going blank at the amount of emotion that was there.

They continued to stare at each other, time losing meaning to both of them. Their breathing picked up and as if by some magnetic pull, their faces were drawn together. Derek heard the younger one's heart pick up as their faces continued to lean towards each other. He parted his lips slightly.

Stiles didn't know what was happening. He felt this connection to the wolf and as if by its own accord he leaned further up. It wasn't until their lips were mere centimeters away did he register what was happening. His eyes widened and he quickly turned his head, laying his head once more against the werewolf's broad shoulder, his mind racing a mile a minute.

Derek sighed and mentally cursed himself. He had promised he would abide by Stiles wishes and just now he almost kissed him! They were supposed to be friends no matter how much Derek wanted more.

"Sorry" he whispered, feeling quite uncomfortable apologizing.

"Already forgotten." Stiles replied easily even though inside he was anything but. He had actually wanted to kiss Derek again. They didn't move from their positions regardless of the awkward tension surrounding them.

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><p><strong>In all honesty, I had trouble with this chapter. *sigh* it seems when I resolve an issue with one story, it goes to another! Remember, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!<strong>

**Okay, the next chapter is in the process of being written. What do you guys think should happen with the alpha?**

**Spoiler Alert: In the next chapter there is some Sterek bonding that is going to happen and of course it will be a very emotional chapter but it will be a big turning point for them. Lydia is introduced into the story!**

** VERY IMPORTANT: Guys, I want to apologize. I do not know when I will be able to update next. I am moving and my internet is cut off and I am not getting it back till November 7th. I am using a friend's internet right now to post this. But I will try to go to the library to update Hardships of an Eternal Love and The Tunes of Life this week. Good news is this will internet-less time will allow me to write more chapters for alll my stories :) Once again Sorry and please bear with me.**

**Review!**


	10. Chapter 10: The Worst Day of the Year

**WOAH! Triple Digit reviews! I love you guys. You are the best! As a result of getting to triple digit reviews, there are some spoilers of the next chapter at the end of the story.**

**I want to thank two people, first off I want to thankTREATs-LOVES-FiiON for reviewing literally every chapter! wow! That made my day! :)**

**Second, I want to thank Wolf Caper. Not only was the review outstanding, but Wolf Caper gave me some very intersting ideas for this fiction. :) **

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: The Worst Day of the Year<strong>

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><p>Stiles' head throbbed. He really didnt want to be at school right now.<p>

Not today.

Not on the day his mother died.

He had dragged his ass off of bed in the morning because he didn't want Derek worrying about him anymore than he already had with the incident two days ago. He managed not to cry at home and had only broken down once in his car. Stiles was in a bad mood; he didn't care about anything and all he wanted to do was to be left alone.

The brunette slowly lifted his head when he heard the classroom door open and caught sight of Scott tumbling in, completely out of breath, five minutes late to class. Stiles smirked when Scott got half-hour detention. As his friend sat down, Stiles turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Dude! The alpha freaking chased me this morning! The asshole almost got me run over by Allison's dad," Scott whispered and Stiles found he didn't really care. "He was freaking interrogating me about Allison and what I did to hurt her! He hates me!" he groaned, slamming his head against the desk, "My life sucks!"

Stiles looked at him and snorted at his behavior.

"Man, get over it. Seriously, there are things more important than Allison and her family…"

Scott frowned at him, put off by the clipped and annoyed tone of his usually supportive friend. What could possibly be more important than Allison? They were meant to be.

"What the hell crawled up your ass and died?" He growled out, the least Stiles could do is try to be understanding. Sure, Scott understood that Stiles had never been in love and could not relate but he could at least try.

Stiles looked at him unbelievingly. Of course, he would forget what today was, even though he had spent countless nights with him, trying to soothe him after his mother's death. Some friend. They always seemed to be fighting nowadays.

"You should know. Oh wait, I forgot that the only thing you care about is Allison. My bad." Stiles sneered sarcastically, turning his head to the front of the class and ignoring Scott for the rest of the period.

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><p>The brown eyes stared emotionlessly into his open locker, unsure why he was even bothering on getting his textbooks he would need for homework when he knew he wouldn't do any of it. Stiles moved his hand to close the blue metal door when it was slammed shut causing the brunette to jump in surprise. He moved his gaze to meet the green eyes of Lydia. There was an obvious annoyed glint in her bright eyes. She turned to glare at someone behind her and Stiles followed her gaze to Allison who was glaring back. The strawberry-blonde turned her attention back to him.<p>

"Stiles…will you go to the formal with me?" she grumbled out.

The formal? What for-

His eyes widened. The formal was next week!

He had completely forgotten about the event. It seemed so trivial and pointless compared to everything else going on. He glanced at Lydia, who was tapping her foot impatiently and maybe even a little nervously. He couldn't find it within himself to turn her down, even though part of him wanted to.

"Uh…sure, Lydia. I'll go with you," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. It felt wrong agreeing to go with her….almost as if he was cheating on Derek.

The thought alone was ludicrous. They were friends and that's all Stiles wanted to be. Nothing more. He was pretty sure the only reason Derek even put up with him was because he pitied him.

"Good. Dress shopping, Sunday, five O'clock, Macy's. She turned and strutted away, the clanking of her heels barely masking the sigh that Stiles let out.

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><p>"Alright! Listen up!" Coach Finstock blew his whistle, drawing the attention of his players.<p>

Stiles, alongside the rest of the team, gathered around the unkempt coach and removed his helmet, breathing hard as little droplets of sweat trailed down his face.

"After quarter finals, most of the players, except Greenburg, will be coming back, meaning all you lucky probationary players get to go back to being benchwarmers!" There were a few disappointed sighs but Stiles remained silent, scuffing the ground with his cleat; he was used to the disappointment and beside he didn't really care today. He knew he wasn't good enough and apparently the practices with Derek weren't working. "Jackson! McCall! Call the drills!"

Stiles slipped his helmet back on and turned to walk back to the field, Scott walked past his, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Bilinski!" He turned his head back around and walked over to the coach.

"Yeah?"

Coach Finstock draped an around his shoulder, dragging him towards the blenchers.

"Bilinski, are you on drugs or something?" Stiles head whipped around and even though Stiles couldn't see him, Scott stopped playing, his mouth gaping open.

"What? No! No…no…no! Well, I mean yes, but it's my medication that I _soo do not_ abuse…" he offered his coach a nervous laugh.

"Then what the hell are you doing? I have seen you improve, and while you are nowhere near McCall's improvement you have gotten better."

"Uh…well I've been getting help from a friend." He told him, shrugging his shoulder, hoping the coach wouldn't pry for more information.

"That's a boy! This is what the team needs. Motivation! Determination. Keep this up and play well on the final and you'll stay on first line, buddy!" Finstock grinned widely.

The normal expected happiness Stiles thought he would feel never arose. It was overweighed by the depression he felt of the day; he managed to fake a smile for his teacher's benefit.

"Great," he mumbled, hoping his voice didn't sound as dead as it did to his own ears. If it did, the coach didn't notice, he simply slapped him on the back before yelling at him,

"Alight Bilinski, head back to practice. Go!"

Stiles did as he was told, dragging his feet, and walked toward where Scott and Jackson were shouting drills. Scott offered him a bright smile but Stiles just got into position.

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><p>Stiles winced as he raised his arms to slip his purple t-shirt over his head, his healing hand throbbing from gripping the lacrosse stick so tightly. The jagged cut on his leg was stinging and his body ached.<p>

"Fuck!" the brunette hissed through his teeth as Jackson slammed him against the lockers, the bruises flaring in pain at the impact.

"Listen up and listen well Stilinski. Tell McCall he has exactly seventy-two hours to turn me, three days. That's all he gets and if he doesn't, I'll tell Allison everything and ruin whatever nonexistent chance he has remaining with her…" the blonde's eyes traveled down Stiles' body, catching sight of a few bruises peeking out of his half-lifted shirt and the redness around his scars on his wrist. "You should learn how to hide those better, emo…" The jock slammed him against the metal doors once more before storming away.

The teen was breathing hard as he slid to the floor, his body in more pain than before. A couple of players, including Danny who held a worried and angry look in his eyes, were stealing glances at him having seen but not heard the confrontation. His brown eyes scanned the locker room full of his teammates, finally landing on Scott who looked at him for a second before going back to argue with the coach about something.

Stiles was so tired of everything. He had expected today to be a bad day, it always was, but never had it been as shitty as it had today. Everywhere he went something happened to him, weather it was him fighting with Scott, Scott forgetting his mother's death anniversary or getting threatened by Jackson, there was no escape. He was trapped in his shitty life and he couldn't run away from it. He hoped his father would not go home today, he wished he would just go the bar because Stiles knew if his dad did go home the beating would be bad and he didn't know how Derek would react.

Derek.

He needed the comfort the lycan offered him, the peace his simple touches brought him.

Ignoring the unrelenting stares he was getting, Stiles finished dressing and ran out of the locker room, darting past a worried and confused Scott.

Once outside, Stiles jumped into his jeep, slamming the door shut, steady streams of tears cascading down his cheeks. Shakily, he started the car up and pulled out of the school. The gray pavement was blurred by the pools of water in his eyes, his ears were ringing loudly and Stiles feared he would get a panic attack while driving. His eyes shifted to the clock on the radio, noting he still had an hour until he had agreed to meet with Derek.

He changed his course and drove ahead to the place he rarely went because it brought it him so much pain.

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><p>A gentle breeze flowed through the empty cemetery, swaying the grass gently.<p>

Stiles laid curled against the black headstone, his pale finger softly tracing over the indentations that made his mother's name. He choked back a sob. God! How he missed her. He missed her laugh, her soft, gentle caresses, her sweet smell, her kisses and most of all her voice.

He missed her calling him Genim, whispering her love for him.

The wind picked up again and the soft touches of the cool air on his face caused Stiles to cry even more.

"Mom…I miss you so much. I wish you were here, I don't know what to do. I'm losing Scott, dad's getting worse, and now I'm bothering Derek with my problems. You would be so ashamed of me. I had sex with him; I slept with him just because I was lonely and hurt." He wiped his eyes as the tears continued to pour. He knew his mother would look at him with disgust; she would probably shake her head in disdain and whisper his name in the manner that always managed to make his heart twist uncomfortably.

"I'm so sorry, mommy. You're the last person I wanted to disappoint…just please don't hate me…please. I feel so tired and I don't know how long I'll be able to continue enduring this. Sometimes I wonder why I even keep on going. It's not like I mean anything to anyone…"

His phone beep, signaling his time was done. He had to meet Derek.

Wiping the last his tears, he stood up and dusted his pants. Stiles leaned down and place a gently kiss on the headstone, his hand lingering, wishing his could feel the warmth of her hand on his.

"I'm sorry mom, love you."

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><p>Stiles groaned as he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror. His red-rimmed eyes would certainly be a dead giveaway to the fact he had been crying.<p>

Knowing it was a waste to try and conceal the redness of them; he got out of the car, lacrosse equipment thrown over his shoulder, and began to walk in the direction of the field that had become to be known as their field.

His hands were stuffed deeply into his pockets. Not really looking forward his 'torture' session with Derek today. The sound of Derek's gruff voice flowed to his ears before his eyes landed on his tall, muscular frame. It sounded like he was on a phone call.

Derek heard the boy's heartbeat as it got closer to him and tried to end the phone call quickly,

"Yeah, sounds good."

"_Okay, any more questions?"_

"What was the price again?"

"_$850 a month,"_

"Alright, see you tomorrow then."

"_Tomorrow, bye."_ the older sounding voice confirmed before hanging up. He shut his phone off just in time to see Stiles walking into the field, equipment thrown over his shoulder, and sadness radiating off of him in waves. Derek frowned, but didn't say anything.

"Ready?" he asked him and saw him nod slightly. He made him run 10 laps, as his thoughts wandered to the appointment he had to see the apartment he was planning on renting tomorrow.

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><p>The cold water cascaded down Derek's body, removing the dirt and grime it held from his time with Stiles and his day of chasing down his uncle.<p>

It was becoming such a habit. A routine. Stiles going to school, Derek staying in the room for a bit before going out to track his uncle. A hunt hat always ended up in a dead end. He even tried to visit his uncle in the hospital only to find him missing, the nurse claiming he was transferred. A clear lie form her heart beat. He would meet up with Stiles at the field and then they would spend the day doing whatever. The sheriff was rarely home and Derek was glad he was gone because he knew if he as so much smelt him, he would lose control.

But this was becoming too normal for him. He was getting used to living with Stiles and his heart hurt because of it. Stiles did not want him like that. He made that clear by insisting on being just friends.

But Derek wanted more than that. He wanted to officially claim him as his mate. His inner wolf was clawing and howling for him to do so.

The small cuddles, the hold of hands, the almost kiss caused him more distress than he was willing to admit. He wanted to take things further, kiss the teen whenever he felt like it simply because he could, tell him he loves him because it was true. But he couldn't.

The apartment started to not sound as such a good idea anymore, but Derek knew it was a necessity. He didn't know if Stiles would be okay with him renting him an apartment. Derek had to admit he was partly doing it as a sign to show him that he was a capable provider. But either way, Stiles could not live in this house any longer than necessary. It was too dangerous and Derek knew if he stayed here he would never get better, he would only deteriorate. Derek could not let that happen.

He should stop allowing the touches between them. It was the best thing for both of them. It saved Derek from the pain of not being to advance and it would be abiding by Stiles wishes.

The wolf leaned against the cold shower wall, wincing at the temperature difference, his hand trailing south.

Another reason he should stop allowing the small intimate touches between him and the boy. He wanted to have him again, needed to have him again. He couldn't forget the way Stiles looked under him, face flushed, mouth open and begging for more.

'_This is so wrong…'_ he thought but didn't stop himself from wrapping his hand around his hardening member.

He picture Stiles' mouth around him again, those big brown eyes looking up at him through his eyelashes.

His strokes quickened, his breathing sped up. Just remembering, reliving having sex with Stiles was more than enough to have him in frenzy.

He imagined Stiles warm heat encompassing him, the tightness, and the rightness. His thumb flicked his tip, his hand easily sliding up and down. His muscles tensed as his mind repeated the way Stiles called out his name, and the knot in his lower belly tightened as he came on his hand, ripples of white falling down and mixing with the water.

Disgusted with pleasing himself as Stiles was hurting, he finished cleaning up and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He stepped out in to the brunette's messy bedroom, smirking internally as he saw him concentrating intently on the video game he was playing; Derek wasn't stupid though, he saw the sadness in his eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders.

Stiles tried not stare, he really did. But his eyes inadvertently trailed to Derek's body. His head grew fuzzy at seeing his naked chest, small streams of water sliding down. He shuddered as he remembered how it felt to have Derek deeply seated within him.

Shaking his head, he mentally slapped himself, his attention going back to the video game he was now losing. He didn't turn around as he heard the faint thump of the towel hitting the floor or the rustling of clothes.

"Hey," Stiles mumbled as he deflected a bullet being shot at him, "Wanna play?"

Derek didn't say anything; he opted for simply sitting down next to the teen, further away than he normally would and grabbed the other remote as Stiles restarted the game.

Stiles frowned as Derek sat further away from him than he normally did. He was expecting to be able to lean into him as they played, wanting the consolation the physical touch brought. The silence between them was awkward and tense; Stiles couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"You were quiet today." Derek was the first to break the silence, his voice sounding colder than Stiles had heard it be in weeks. Too stunned, Stiles didn't say anything, half-heartedly playing the game now, not expecting the werewolf to speak again, "My brother and me used to play this game all the time. He was younger than me, about fifteen when he died." Derek's voice cracked but he kept on talking, his tone becoming colder and colder as every second passed. "My mother used to get so annoyed with us and Laura would throw a tantrum when we told her she couldn't play. I used to be close to Felix, probably because we were two of the only three boys and we had the smallest age difference between us. My dad always trained us together….I remember we both shifted for the first time together. It was exhilarating."

Derek leaned to the right slightly as he tried to duck behind a car in the game. Stiles was beyond surprised that Derek would share something like that with him. He tried to scoot closer to Derek but the elder scooted away.

He tried to ignore the way the action pained him, and spoke softly at first, "Seven years ago today, my mother died." Derek turned his head to look at him, noting the way his eyes sparkled as the light from the TV reflected on the pools of tears that had begun to accumulate there. So that's why he had been acting so strange the past week.

"It's the worse day of the year for me. I just miss her so much and today, in general, has been so crappy! With me fighting with Scott again, Jackson being Jackson, Lydia asking me to the Formal, my body freaking hurts! The only good thing that happened today was the fact that it seems my dad is not coming home."

Stiles failed to note the hurt look that passed Derek face when he mentioned him going to the formal with Lydia. So it was just him he wasn't interested in; it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship, he just didn't want one with him. This is why Derek never trusted anyone; they only hurt you in the end. He knew that despite Stiles' confession, and regardless of how much it hurt him, Derek would never leave the teen. Derek would make sure Stiles got over this and then he would leave him alone to be with Lydia.

"You know, she used to tickle me to death before she put me to bed and she would never leave the room, any room, without giving me a kiss on head first. When she was at home, she would always wear her hair in a high bun, messy of course. Neat was never her style. She was so disorganized at times, it used drive my father and me crazy. He wasn't like this before. He used to be all smiles and laughter. He loved her so much; they loved each other very much. And then came the accident and everything seemed to fall apart…" his voice cracked and he turned teary eyes to Derek. Stiles moved forward and when Derek didn't move he took it as invitation to continue, he crawled until he clinging onto his shirt that Derek was wearing.

Derek let the teen hug him and uncomfortably hugged him back. He rubbed his back soothingly, allowing himself to rest his cheek against the brunette's short hair, his heart clenching for the boy.

Stiles was only slightly embarrassed for breaking down in front of Derek…again. He would have thought he would've been used this happening. Stiles didn't really care at the moment though; he was just so relieved to be able to get everything off of his chest for once. The weight on his shoulders seemed to have lessened, even if only by a little. Derek was always there for him, there to comfort him and make him feel better. There seemed to be genuine care for him in his eyes and it made Stiles so happy that he did. Derek, practically a complete stranger, had stepped up and taken responsibility to help him and comfort him where no one else had.

Stiles cried harder as he realized he might be developing feelings for Derek; little did he know Derek had just made the decision to distance himself away from him and let Stiles be happy with Lydia once he was better.

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><p><strong>Ahhhh...my poor, poor men. <strong>

**Let me know what you thought.**

**Spoilers: Next chapter, Derek will go check out the apartment and confornt Scott for the first time since Lunatic. Let's just say he will a total ass to him, might even let some things slip. Stiles will have conflicting emotions over Derek now as Derek begins to distance himself. The alpha strikes and Scott suffers the burnt of the attack.**

**Review!**


	11. Chapter 11: High Points

**Guys I cannot say I am sorry enough times. You guys have been so patient with me and this story; I hope I haven't lost any readers as a result of the long wait.**

**I want to give a big thanks to**** Song of the Midnight Wolf ****for his amazing review! You had me smiling and I am happy to have been able to get you too feel so much emotion during this. I am so psyched that you enjoy this story so much.**

**Thanks to Hackthecatboy for beta-ing this. Hopefully, between the both of us we caught most errors. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: High Points<strong>

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><p>Derek scanned the interior of the apartment, striding from room to room.<p>

The apartment was located on the other side of Beacon Hills, far enough away from Stiles' house but close enough that he could still attend his high school. It was an ideal size for two people. The apartment came fully furnished, with two bedrooms, a large living room, one bathroom and an ample kitchen and dining room space.

Derek walked around the apartment once more, faintly aware of the old man following him, and tried to imagine what the place would like once Stiles moved in. He pictured the place filled with comic books and werewolf research; there would be mountains of clothes everywhere. He saw pictures of Stiles' mother and Derek's family decorating the hallway. There would be touches of the both of them all round the house. It would be their home. As Derek stepped foot in the living room once more, he imagined laying there, snuggling with Stiles on the couch watching some ridiculous TV show. He almost smiled at the image. Almost, until he remembered that Stiles didn't want him; he wanted Lydia.

Derek wouldn't be living here with the brunette. Stiles would eventually be living here with Lydia and Derek would go back to New York once Stiles was better.

He turned cold eyes to the landlord and nodded his head, "I'll take it."

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><p>Derek stared up the open window and crouched low. He jumped up and glided smoothly and seemingly effortlessly into the dark room.<p>

When Scott didn't even seem to have heard him enter his bedroom, Derek shook his head. What a waste of the gift.

"McCall," Derek spoke into the room. Scott jumped out of the bed, his scent saturated with embarrassment at not having sensed Derek's arrival.

"Derek! Where are have you been? We have an issue and I've been trying to contact you but your phone has been off and Stiles said he hasn't seen you either!"

Stiles had kept his presence a secret? Why?

"I've had things to do." Derek told him coldly, his eyes narrowing in Scott's direction.

"Well, we have a big problem! Jackson found out about me and now he wants…." Scott's rant fell onto deaf ears. Derek tuned out everything the teen was saying, a feral rage slowly building in him.

The insolent pup always seemed concerned with other things and never once seemed to show an ounce of care for his best friend.

This moron standing in front of him had, for seven years, either completely remained ignorant of Stiles' obvious depression, or simply did not care. This useless werewolf neglected a member of Derek's pack.

Not to mention that yesterday, a meaningful and hurtful day for Stiles, Scott seemed to completely have forgotten its importance.

Scott didn't even have a chance to blink before a fist landed on his lower jaw, splitting his lip and sending Scott flat on his back from the force. He raised his shocked eyes to regard Derek. The older beta was recognizably angered, his breaths coming out in harsh pants and eyes flickering ice blue.

"Derek, I didn't mean to let Jackson find out about us, you didn't have to punch me," Scott said as he touched his quickly healing, bleeding lip. He flinched at Derek's infuriated growl.

"I don't care about Jackson; he's a worthless human who I will deal with personally. But I will deal with you first; you have neglected one of your pack members. The most important one."

"What do you mean?" Scott picked himself up off the ground, rubbing his sore jaw gingerly.

"Do you have any idea what yesterday was?" Scott looked at him blankly, nothing of importance coming to mind.

"Should I?"

Derek growled again, resisting the urge to punch the teenager once more, "Yes you should. Yesterday was the anniversary of Stiles' mother's death. Where were you when your friend needed you the most?" Scott's eyes widened and guilt settled in his stomach. How could he have forgotten that? Stiles' odd behavior yesterday suddenly made sense.

"I completely forgot…."

"You are a complete waste of the gift! He's supposed to be part of your pack and this is how you treat him? Do you have any clue what he goes through? Do you even know how he feels?" Derek snarled out, instantly regretting his words. He shouldn't have that; he gave away too much.

Scott shot up, hands fisted at his side as he glared at the elder. "Stiles is fine, he's perfectly fine and happy. He has a good life and there's nothing wrong. I would know; he's my best friend!" When Derek scoffed, Scott wasn't sure about anything he had just said. Stiles was fine…wasn't he?

"You're more of an idiot than I thought. I've only known him for a few months, and I know more about him than you do." Derek moved quickly and had Scott by the collar of his shirt, "After we kill the alpha, who happens to be my uncle, there will be no more contact with me and you better hope it's not too late by then to save your friendship with Stiles." He threw Scott on the floor and jumped out the boy's bedroom window.

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><p>Stiles twirled around in his room, empty brown eyes scanning anything else he might need for training with Derek. His eyes caught the sight of a stray ball and he sighed as he bent to pick it up.<p>

"Oh my god!" Stiles shrieked when he stood up and found Derek staring at him.

"No training today, you're father's coming up the street," Derek said his tone void of any emotion; the sound of Derek's voice like this sounded foreign to Stiles' ears. Stiles tried to hide the disappointment he felt over the cancelation; he had hoped to spend time with Derek.

"He's coming home?" The fear was palpable to Derek, the racing heart a clear sign of how much terror the young teen had of his father.

"I'm staying. He won't touch you." Derek vowed.

Both males turned their heads towards Stiles closed door when they hear the front door slam shut.

Stiles shot Derek one more nervous glance as the beta slinked away into the shadows of the room. The brunette went to his computer desk, trembling hands slowly taking out his history book from his backpack.

This would be the first time Derek would ever be present while his dad was home. Due to the recent mountain lion attacks, the sheriff practically lived down at the station and Stiles barely saw his father, much to his luck.

Since yesterday had been the seventh anniversary of his mother's death, he wasn't sure what kind of mood his father would be in. Stiles could only hope the sheriff would not bug him today. He had too much on his mind.

But Stiles was never that fortunate.

"Stiles! Get your ass downstairs right now!" The sheriff's voice rang up to the teen's bedroom. Stiles' breath hitched as he forced his body to get up from his chair; he didn't look at Derek as he left the bedroom.

Walking into the living room where his father was, the brunette turned petrified eyes to the body of his tormenter. "Yeah, dad?"

He didn't have time to react before a fist connected to his lower jaw, and his back impacted the cold wooden floor. Stiles grabbed his jaw, his fingers detecting the slick feeling of the blood on his lips. His throat closed up, his brown eyes broadened in fright.

"You went to her grave last night didn't you? I saw your fucking flowers on her grave! You tainted her burial place!"

Stiles pushed himself back away from the towering, rubicund faced man, "Dad, she was my mom. I have every right to visit her." Stiles whispered.

If it was possible, the elder man turned even redder. He raised his fist and Stiles closed his eyes waiting for the impact.

Only it never came.

He peered up at him. The man's eyes were blown open, terror the only emotion visible.

That's when Stiles heard it.

A growl…low and menacing.

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><p>Scott knew it was stupid to be wandering around in the woods this late at night, but he needed to get away. He needed to think.<p>

What had Derek meant with everything he had said this afternoon? Could there be something wrong with Stiles?

Scott would know if something was wrong. Stiles and he were best friends; they knew everything about each other. Scott acknowledged that he had been neglecting their friendship, and he regretted it, wished things were different but with the whole werewolf thing going on it was hard.

He sighed and pulled his hoodie tighter around himself, even his amplified body heat couldn't protect him from the chill of this particular night. It was an oddly cold night.

The teen started running things he had noticed differently about Stiles as of late but couldn't really come up with anything. The only real thing he seemed to notice was his reduced Stiles-ness.

The normally sarcastic, joke-telling, loud friend he knew had been quiet, sad and brooding.

"Hello Scott. We meet at last."

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><p><strong>Double cliffhanger! :P hehe<strong>

**Alright guys! So I owe you major apologies. It's been a month since I updated and I am deeply sorry. The next update won't take this long I swear!**

**Anyways, I want your opinions on what the next Lesson for Stiles should be. Any ideas?**

**Again, sorry!**

**Review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Revelations

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait! Hope everyone had an awesome New Years! As an apology for the late update, I am posting this up for you. **

**I want to give a special thanks to hugefangirl for her amazing review and to IHateHowIWishedYouCared. **

**THIS IS THE FIRST DRAFT. I QUICKLY RAN THROUGH IT BUT I REALLY WANTED TO GET THIS TO YOU. THE ERRORS WILL BE FIXED…EVENTUALLY! **

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 12: Revelations<span>**

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><p>Stiles glanced at Derek and had to bite back a whimper of fear. He had never see Derek so pissed off and he decided he never wanted to see that look on his face ever again.<p>

"What are you doing here, Hale?" The sheriff asked as he reached for his gun but was stopped by another growled from Derek.

"Don't do that. Your guns won't have an effect on me." Derek warned and his blue eyes turned to look at Stiles, "Get out of the way."

Stiles scrambled away and stood up. He watched Derek with wary eyes. What was he planning on doing?

"Did you think no one knew about your abuse?" Derek questioned the frightened officer as he took a step closer. Stiles twitched a bit, he was ready to stop Derek if he got of hand. "Did you think someone wasn't going to defend him eventually?"

"He doesn't deserve to be defended! He killed his mother. He's worthless. All he does is get into trouble, do badly in school and serve as a constant reminder of what he took away from me. He's no son of mine." Sheriff practically growled out, shooting Stiles a disgusted look. "He doesn't matter. You're under arrest Hale. You're coming with me."

Stiles felt the prick of tears forming in his eyes and the shooting pain he always felt in his heart when his father said such hateful things to him. He wrapped his arms around himself and let out a tiny whimper.

Derek growled furiously at the aging man and before Stiles could stop him, he had the Sheriff pinned to the wall by the collar of his shirt. "Listen to me carefully. Don't you ever speak about him in that manner again to anyone or I will kill you and I will enjoy it. You are a piece of crap excuse of a man. That boy of yours is more of a man than you can ever be. Your abuse ends here. He no longer lives with you. Try to stop me and you'll find out why my eyes keep flickering colors, understood?" The sheriff didn't give an indication of hearing Derek; he simply glared at him. Derek held his gaze, anger and hatred burning his in blue eyes. When the sheriff never answered him, he slammed the man against the wall again. "Do you understand?"

The sheriff looked at his son for a moment, took in his battered body and obvious depression. Part of him, the part that contained the man he used be when his wife was alive, knew that letting the boy go was for the best. The sheriff knew the boy wasn't to be blame for anything, no matter how much he did want to blame him for everything. Stiles was still his son and the tiny part of him knew it was time to let him go.

"Fine. Take him. Good fucking riddance." He was silenced by Derek punch to his head.

"Derek! Why did you do that?" Stiles cried as he watched Derek drop his father's unconscious body to the ground.

"He deserved it. Go pack your things." Stiles looked at his father and made a movement to go help him but he was stopped by Derek's hand landing on his shoulder. "Go." Stiles looked at him and nodded. He was halfway up the stairs when he turned around, nearly losing his balance.

"Thanks Derek." He said quietly before he went to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, trying to calm his erratic heart. Stiles thought over the whole confrontation that had just occurred. He didn't know how he felt about it. The brunette was relieved that someone had finally stood up to his father, he was happy that Derek had come to help him. But, he had seen the brief flash of pain in his father's eyes. For the smallest fraction of a second, he had seen the man his father had been.

And then Derek said he wasn't going to live here anymore. Where was he supposed to go? He had nowhere to go and he was not staying with Scott. Mainly because he wanted nothing to do with friend and secondly because he would burden Melissa with his presence. Stiles knew that he needed to trust in Derek. He pushed himself off of the door and went to his closet where he had an old suit case all the way in the back. He began to pack essentials. He had no clue if this arrangement was permanent so he packed sufficient clothes, toiletries, his school supplies and lacrosse things. Stiles walked over to his desk and picked his mother's photo. His thumb gently traced over her face and he smiled slightly before placing her in the suitcase too and shutting it close. He kneeled down and took out Derek's duffel bag from under his bed. He got up and looked around the room. He thought he had all that he needed, figuring that whatever he forgot he could come back and get it.

"Ready?" Derek's voice came from the doorway and the shock of hearing it had Stiles jumping in the air. He turned around to face him and handed him his duffel bag.

"Yeah, I got your bag." Stiles looked at Derek for a moment, "Where am I going to live Derek? I have nowhere to go?"

Derek caught his bag, "You'll find out. Let's go, we can pick up everything else later." He walked out of the bedroom with Stiles in tow. When they reached the bottom of the steps, Stiles saw his father, conscious again, sitting at the kitchen table pouring himself a drink. He looked at Derek and saw the beta's scowl.

"We're leaving. Don't try to find us or you'll regret it," Derek warned as he passed the man and walked outside. Stiles watched him leave and stood next to his father's chair.

"Dad…," he spoke hesitantly.

"Don't. Just go, leave with your fucking boyfriend. Don't fucking come back, I don't want you back."

Stiles stared at him momentarily before nodding in resignation. He walked to the door but before he closed it he stopped and spoke again, "I do love you dad. Even after all of this. I forgive you, always have. Take care of yourself."

Stiles didn't see Sherriff Stilinski silently crying into his drink nor did hear his father's soft whisper, "I'm sorry son. For everything."

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><p>Scott stopped dead in his track and stared at the man blocking his path, his body tensing.<p>

"Well, I guess we have met before but never like this. I'm Peter Hale, your alpha," Peter sad, a small smirk spreading his face.

Scott growled at the man, "I know who you are and you are not my alpha."

Peter's eyes flashed red for a moment before he hummed quietly into the chilly night, "True but you will submit to me. If you don't Stiles and your little girlfriend will be next in line."

Scott barely contained the shift, snarls and growls falling from lips, "Don't you dare touch her."

Peter laughed and walked closer to Scott, "Why am I not surprised you only care about the hunter?" Scott stopped growling at his words and hung his head in shame as Peter continued, "I mean the human boy has better qualities than she does. How well do you know the boy, Scott?"

"That's none of you business, leave them alone."

"Not very well if you ask me," Peter kept on talking, disregarding Scott's earlier comment. "Did you know that your friend and my nephew slept together, that Derek is staying at his house?"

Scott's eyes widened. That couldn't be true. Peter took in his expression and laughed, "I will take that as a _'no'._ How about his abuse? Were you aware that the honorable sheriff beats your friend? How about the fact that Stiles has been cutting himself for a while? The boy is suicidal, in my opinion."

"You're lying." Scott said but the feeling in his chest told him that it was all true. Peter looked offended at his words.

"I assure you I am not. You heard my heart, I only spoke the truth," Peter smirked to himself as he saw part of Scott's resolve crumble. "If you join me, Stiles and Allison will be safe from me. If you don't, I will end them and then I'll go after everyone else you care about."

Scott knew he spoke the truth and he couldn't risk anything happening to the people he cared about. To Allison. He felt like howling his sorrow, his anger as his wolf submitted, "Fine."

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><p>"What?" Allison asked, her eyes showing her disbelief as she stared at her parents and aunt.<p>

Chris sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly, "Honey, our family hunts werewolves."

"Werewolves?"

"Yes, werewolves, shape-shifter, lycans, you pick. The Argents have been hunters for many, many years now." Kate said, analyzing her niece's reaction.

Allison leaned back against her chairs, "the animal attacks?"

"Werewolves," Victoria spoke, "There are three of them out here; an alpha and two betas."

Allison ran the information through her head. Everything fit; the strange conversations, the lies, the clues, the night at the school.

"Why are you telling me this now?" She asked.

The three adults looked at each other, a silent conversation passing through them before Chris answered her, "Because we need your help to catch the second beta."

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><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>

**I know the people who I have constant email conversations with have not heard from me in a while/not as frequently and I apologize. I will send you all email tomorrow or Tuesday regarding that. I've been having some personal issues. :/**

**Review!**


	13. AN

**A/N: Hey guys, I know I have been M.I.A for a while on all my stories (and to the people whom I have a constant email relationship with) but life has been a royal bitch and there has been a lot on my plate. School has been taking up a lot of my time and I recently (as embarrassed as I am to admit it) gotten into role-playing and that has kept me distracted...a lot Anywho, this month I plan to update every single one of my stories and even post some other one-shots. I promise you I haven't given up on any of them. I can't tell you which one I'll update first because that's up to which one I get inspired to write first. I hope I haven't lost any reader and that you all are still interested in the stories.**

**Once again, I'm sorry and thank you to all of you who have stuck by me.**

**On a side note, figured I'd share this with you guys, I recently have found a new pairing that rivals my love of Sterek and that Derek/Allison (blame it on my rp group). So don't be surprised if I start posting random one-shots of them hehe.**

**~Marie.**


	14. Indefinite Hiatus

**Hey guys.**

**I am honestly flattered by the amount of support and love you guys have for this story but as of right now, I have no where to go with this. I haven't been writing for the other stories because I am stuck on this one. I have no plot in mind, no way to end it. Nada. All my inspiration for this has vanished.**

**So unfortunately, this will be on an indefinite hiatus. I'm sorry. **


	15. Chapter 13: Settling In

**Alright…..so hi….I just noticed how long it's been since I declared indefinite hiatus on this story. As many of you know, when author claims that….they usually don't come back. But….I've decided to come back. **

**Hopefully that's enough to make you guys go easy on me. My writing is a little rough as I haven't written in the POV this story contains in a while. I got used to writing from a specific character's third person POV so I'm getting back into the swing of things so be easy on me!**

**I know many of you have been waiting for this update and you'll be pleased to know that I have come up with a plot for this; it's not solid because you need to leave room for creativity, right? But I think it'll be good. Not sure how long or how many more chapters it will contain. **

**Now, I do have a busy schedule – working full time, plus a part time, plus going to college will do that- and while I can't promise an update weekly or biweekly, I can promise that I will try to get a monthly update without missing!**

**So without further ado, enjoy the chapter and it's good to be back. I hope to hear from you guys!**

**~Marie**

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><p>Nope. There was no way in hell this was happening right now. Nope. No way. Nu-uh.<p>

But despite how much Stiles tried to deny, the fact that Derek was blabbing away about something along the lines of it's not much but it would do for now, confirmed the fact that Derek…..got them an apartment.

Got him an apartment.

Got them an apartment.

Wait…? They had their _own_ apartment?

"Are you crazy?" The words slipped out before Stiles could stop them and at the confused look he received from the older man, he knew Derek didn't see the issue here. "You got us...me…whatever…an apartment? Derek, that's crazy!"

The only response he got was a confused "why?"

Stiles scoffed, dropping his bags. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. On one hand, he was overwhelmed with gratitude at the extent that Derek had gone for him….but at the same time; he was being crushed and dragged through the mud by the overwhelming amount of guilt at how much trouble he was putting Derek through.

Derek raised an eyebrow in Stiles' direction, clearly not understanding why he was so upset. He promised he would protect the boy….so this was his way of protecting him. Why couldn't he see that? "It's really not that big of a deal, Stiles. I don't know why you seem so upset. You couldn't stay in that house anymore and I wasn't going to let you any ways. If I hadn't intervened, you know damn well what would have happened." Derek pointed out, grabbing the bag Stiles had dropped and dragging them to one of the bedrooms.

However, he missed the pained looked that crossed the teen's features at his comment. Derek was right. If he hadn't forced them to leave, things would have only gotten worse. But still, that didn't change how he felt. He was smart enough to know that there was no use in arguing with the beta. It would be completely in vain.

Completely oblivious to the torment going on in Stiles' head, Derek began to take some of the things out of Stiles' bag absentmindedly. His body tensed, muscles going rigid when he felt lithe arms wrap around him from behind. Derek had expected the protests, the pouting, and the arguments over the apartment but he hadn't expected Stiles to hug him, clutching to his body as if it was a lifeline. Slowly, almost as if he was afraid that if he moved too quick, the embrace could stop, Derek straightened. At first, he wasn't sure what to do but, eventually, he shifted in the teenager's arms, turning so that he could hug him back and didn't say anything about the quiet tears he knew Stiles was shedding. All Derek did was gently rub his back because he knew that's what he mate needed right now.

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><p>Light eyes rolled dramatically at the heaving Derek could hear coming from Stiles as he jogged around the clearing that had become their training ground. 'If you keep breathing like that, you'll disturb the wildlife," Derek called out bemusedly, only to receive a panted insult of some kind that had hardly made sense.<p>

As he waited for Stiles to finish up, he played with the lacrosse stick in his hand, tossing it from hand to hand, using it to spin the ball in the net. It had been about a week since he had forced Stiles to move out of the Stilinski home. They had settled well within their own apartment. So well, that it pained Derek. How could it not? You want to be with someone so bad but you know that you aren't what they want, that's enough to cause anyone heartache. It didn't help that at night, Stiles kept sneaking into his bedroom, claiming he didn't want to be left alone.

On those nights, Derek would just hold him close, stroking his back until the teenager fell asleep. It was only when he heard soft snoring that he dared to lean over and press a kiss on top of his head, and finally let himself drift off too.

It had, also, been obvious that the move had been beyond beneficial to Stiles. Derek didn't see tense all the time anymore; he didn't see crushing sadness and fear. Was it still there? Yeah, definitely. Derek still heard him crying himself to sleep some night, still caught him staring blankly off into space, tears in his eyes. He never told Stiles he knew of those times; Derek was still trying to work out his plan to help him. So far, this lacrosse thing seemed like the best thing. It helped the teen release some of those emotions inside of him.

Snapping out of his inner musing, Derek turned to look at a heavily panting Stiles as he jogged back to where Derek was standing. "That was quicker than yesterday." Derek praised lightly, a small smile gracing his lips at the aggravated look he received as a result. Stiles was always grumpy after the jog.

"That's because I knew if I didn't do it, you'd remind me of lesson 2. If you think you can't, you can. So do it anyways and then you would go on and on and on." Stiles snapped, though it lacked any real conviction. He was just tired and sore and he knew that Derek had gotten used to his snappy moods while they trained…..or at least while he trained with Derek because Coach never pushed this hard during regular training sessions.

"At least I know you remember it." Derek said, tossing Stiles the extra lacrosse stick. The teen barely manage it catch and it earned him a chuckle from Derek.

Despite his grumpy mood, Stiles had to admit that this was nice. They had fallen into a good routine. Things between them were comfortable. For the most part, at least. There were times where things got awkward between them, their line of friendship blurring, but they worked well together. They didn't fight while they lived together and everything felt natural.

Moving out of his dad's house had done him a lot of good. It eased some the fear he had always carried and while part of it remained – he was petrified that his dad would attempt something to get him back, especially since Stiles knew that the sheriff had seen Derek's eyes change colors – Stiles felt himself slowly relaxing.

The sadness never went away, not really. Many times, he'd still find himself crying himself to bed, or sobbing to himself in the car as he drove home. Whenever he had too much alone time, the depression drowned him and no matter how hard Stiles tried to swim to the surface, he always ended up sinking. The only times he didn't were when Derek was near; the only person who knew about his problems, the only one who cared enough to stay.

As Derek tossed the small ball in his direction, Stiles quickly moved to get it into the net of the lacrosse stick. Grinning as it went it; he took a step back and tossed it back to the raven-haired man. "Have you seen Scott, lately?" Stiles asked, trying to make it sound as nonchalant about it as he could muster. It obviously wasn't enough because Derek stilled.

"What do you mean?" He asked, assuming that Scott had just been avoiding Stiles as of late since the boy had not said a word about him lately. It wouldn't be the first time Scott had done this, especially since he became overly infatuated with the youngest Argent. "Are you guys fighting again?" The words were growled out; a frustrated look covered Derek's feature. He had spoken to Scott, made things absolutely clear and if he was pulling this crap again….

"No….it's not that. I just haven't seen him lately. I mean, he's in school, I see him in class but he's always tense. He won't look at me but it's not just me he's doing it to. I've noticed that he isn't really spending much time with Allison, either. "Stiles told him, thinking back to the last week. Every time he tried to approach his friend, he would get an excuse before he scurried about.

Normally, he would have shrugged it off. By this point, Stiles was used to Scott keeping his distance, he as too enamored with Allison, but when Stiles had noticed that there was growing distance between the couple, he knew it was more than that. "Do you think he's okay?"

Derek's shoulders rose in a shrug as he tossed the ball back to Stiles. They should be practicing but Derek wasn't feeling up to it and he could tell Stiles was okay with just tossing the ball around for the day. "Probably."

It was a cryptic answer, but Stiles had learned to expect those so his dark eyes rolled causing Derek to smirk.

The subject was dropped shortly after and they continued to toss the ball around until Stiles clonked his head when he attempted to dive to catch a stray ball. At that point, they decided….or well…. Stiles had demanded that they go home so he could ice his head.

The night had settled down, and Derek laid in bed later that night, stroking Stiles' back. It was like any other night Stiles crawled into his bed. Derek knew nights were the hardest part of the day for Stiles because during the day, he always had something or another to distract himself from his thoughts, but at night, he had nothing but time to let his thoughts smother him.

Derek hated hearing him cry himself to sleep so he preferred that Stiles slept with him instead. When the teenager did, it seemed like he got a better rest and Derek always felt better after the precious couple of hours he got to pretend that he was holding Stiles the way it should be, not just like a supportive friend.

On these nights, Derek would normally stay in bed with Stiles, not wanting the teen to wake up alone, but after hearing what Stiles had said about Scott earlier in the day, he knew he needed to leave and track down Scott, see what he was up to, what his deranged uncle was up to as well.

He had neglected keeping tabs on his uncle in the past week, too concerned over how Stiles settled after leaving his father's house. Sighing, Derek pulled himself out of bed and pulled the covers over the sleeping body still on the mattress before leaving the room.

Stretching, he scratched his stomach as he crossed the room where he had discarded his jeans from the day. Tugging them on over his boxers, Derek spared a glance at the sleeping teen before leaving the apartment silently after he snatched his leather jacket from the nearby chair.

Once outside, Derek glanced around. The ground was wet, the air humid from the rain that had showered the town in the early evening. It would make tracking any sort of clues that his uncle had been nearby hard if he stayed human.

He gave one more cursory glance around to make sure no one was watching before he closed his eyes, letting his eyes change colors, his bones crack and reshape as he let himself shift. Growling lightly, Derek opened his eyes and sniffed the air.

At first, he didn't catch anything but as he focused, he caught an old scent. It wasn't fresh, not by any means, but it was something. He took off in a sprint towards the scent, completely oblivious that the car that was parked on the other side of the street was a police car.

A police car with a sheriff holding up a camera. A sheriff who had just caught the whole shift in a series of pictures, similar to the ones he would take on any old stake-out. But these….these pictures had proof of what he had seen.

These...these would give him the leverage he needed to rid himself of Hale and bring Stiles back home.

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><p><strong>Review! and thank you for the never-ending support!<strong>

**Sorry it was kinda short but I need to get back to the swing of things!**


	16. Chapter 14: Trouble Stirs

**Hey guys~**

**So here is another chapter. I legitimately wrote this while I was working on slow Sunday :P Just to clarify, this chapter starts after Derek heads for the woods and gives a little more detail on exactly what went on that night. It's a chapter that I needed to write to lead into the future events. So sadly...no Sterek this chap :( There will be some next chapter, promise!**

**Alright, here you go!**

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><p>Derek ran through the woods, senses sharp as he tried to keep his uncle's scent. Peter had just been here; he was sure of it.<p>

He came to a quick stop after he heard rustling coming from behind him. He had a trailer, someone following him. Before he could turn around and investigate, he was plowed into by heavy body.

Letting out a snarl, Derek pushed the boy off of him, standing up and dusting his clothes. "What the hell is your problem, Scott?"

Scott had the decency of at least looking sheepish – even though the look seemed funny with his shifted form- as he rose from the ground himself. "I was going too fast. I was distracted and I didn't see you." He wouldn't admit as to why he had been distracted. He didn't want to admit he was going to meet Peter. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Stiles?"

"Stiles is at home; I heard my uncle. I came chasing him, I was hoping to find him but you…you just scattered his scent." It was clear Derek was angry as he paced back and forth from Scott to the nearest tree. "Why are you avoiding Stiles again? And the Argent girl?"

There was a look that crossed Scott's face that Derek couldn't quite well place. It looked almost like shame. "That's none of your concern. It's what's best for Stiles." Scott told him, avoiding eye contact. He was about to speak up again when a howl tore through the cool night air. Both betas turned their heads in the direction before glancing at each other and taking off, fully shifted.

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><p>Stilinski sighed as he sank deep into the old reclining chair in the living room. He had a tumbler in his right hand, filled half way with ice and dark amber whiskey. It had been a week since Hale had taken his son from home.<p>

The selfish part of him hated that he left because he wanted his son home even though he knew it wasn't good for Stiles. John wasn't stupid; he knew what he did to the boy in his drunken stupors. At the time of the attacks, he didn't know what he was doing and he couldn't control what he did either but afterwards….. Oh, afterwards, John knew exactly what he did. He knew the punches he threw, the kicks he dealt and the hateful words he spewed. It wasn't intentional. Not at all. He loved his son and even though it didn't seem like it, he truly did.

He hated himself for what he put Stiles through. It was awful; it was cruel but he couldn't stop himself. He drank because it hurt. It hurt to lose his wife, the one woman he loved irrevocably. He drank because he was an awful father who hurt his son. He drank because he was a waste of space.

Taking a sip, he let himself slouch in deeper to the recliner. There was one thing he couldn't get out of him head, however. It was Derek Hale's eye.

Now, he knew that he had not been sober but he had not been drunk enough to imagine that. The color of his eyes had changed from a soft hazel to a bright icy blue. Maybe if it had been just that, he would have waved it off but the fact that the eye color change was accompanied by an almost animalistic growl.

It was surreal, really. He had spent the rest of that day doubting his sanity but he had known what he had seen. Derek Hale was _not_ human. And with that, John was up and out of the chair, placing his drink on the table and forgetting all about as he walked out of the house.

Later that night, John was parked in front of the apartment Derek Hale had apparently rented out for his son. He was parked across the street, eyes trained on the apartment he had researched was his son's.

It had been uneventful and excluding the stupid lacrosse practice he had to observe, and Stilinski was ready to call it a night when the front door of the apartment building opened. He sat up straighter, propping the camera that was normally used to catch pictures of criminals and aimed at Hale. He hadn't been expecting anything to happen but as soon as he saw Derek…change, he snapped as many photographs as he could. He needed proof; proof that he wasn't completely insane.

The pictures should have been enough….but they weren't. He needed to know more.

So against his better judgment, John followed him into the wood, not giving a second though to his abandoned car. However, nothing could prepare him for what he saw. It was one thing to know that Derek Hale was not human….it was something entirely different to know that a boy he had known his entire life and was his son's best friend was also a monster.

Slumping against a nearby tree, he let the men ran away when a howl ripped through the air, not bothering to follow them anymore. He had seen enough. God….did his son know about this? He might an awful drunk and bad father, but he did still care when he was sober.

Sighing, he knew something needed to be done but what in the world could he possibly do? No one would believe him. Hell, he didn't believe himself right now. There had to be someone. Who did Scott hang out with beside Stiles? He knew he had been seeing Argent's daughter but…..

The sheriff paused, something clicking. The Argents. They had to know. They had been suspects of the Hale Fire. Kate's connection to younger Derek had flagged something in the sheriff so many years ago. And it seemed like it was happening again, only this time Allison was the one dating a monster.

They had to know. It was a stretch…a really long one. But it was something. They would probably think he was crazy but he had to try something. Leaving the woods behind him, he jumped to his car and drove away.

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><p>"Allison….you're losing focus!" Chris chastised his daughter, watching her miss a punch she could have very well landed on the hunter she was training with. Allison huffed and turned to face him, face red from exertion, eyes angry.<p>

"I'm damn well focused!" She retorted, huffing angrily. She was so sick of this. Ever since she found out about her family's business, she'd been angry. Angry at everything. Things had become strained between her and Scott because she was putting distance between them. She didn't want to believe he could be a werewolf but her parents seemed convinced and she didn't want to help the man she loved be killed by her family.

Everything about this was sick.

Chris sighed, being able to see the conflict in his daughter's eyes. He knew it had been hard on her, learning all of this. It was the main reason he had been so hesitant to tell her but his wife had been right….she needed to know because soon, they would rely on her to lead the family. "No, you're not. You're fighting blindly with anger. You haven't hit him once. He's human, Allison, if this was a wolf, and you'd be dead." He stressed, placing his hands on his hips.

Allison huffed before turning to the hunter that was being her punching bag for the day. She saw his arm ready to swing at her and she quickly moved to doge the blow, ducking under his fist and moving quick to kick his legs from under him. The hunter, Max, fell hard with a grunt and before he could react, Allison had clambered over him, yanking on his hair and pulling his hair back before she pressed her knife to his throat.

Her pants came out heavy, and she didn't move for a moment before letting Max go. Finally releasing him, she stood up and faced her father. Chris looked on amused. "Better?" she asked, and Chris nodded before motioning for them to get a move on.

The car ride hadn't been long, but the tension between them was enough to make it seem like an eternity.

As Chris pulled his red SUV up the Argent driveway, ignoring the fact the Allison didn't even seem to want to speak to him, he sighed heavily at the silence that drowned the car. He hated the rift between them – she had always been a daddy's girl – but he also knew that Allison would accept this situation in time.

They all did. They all had to.

Exiting the car, Chris did have one thing to be thankful of. She had been distancing herself from her boyfriend. Not only was that a good thing because he was a boy and Chris didn't like boys near his daughter, but hunters had rumored that they had seen the boy spending time with Derek Hale.

To him, that was a major red flag and they had been keeping tabs on the boy. Not that Allison needed to know that.

Allison glanced over at her father while she opened the door to the house and raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you okay, dad?" She asked, stepping into their house.

Chris gave her a look that was meant to say it was nothing but before he could open his mouth, Kate stepped out from the living room. She crossed her arms over her chest, a smirk on her face.

The look worried both father and daughter but it was Chris who spoke up first. "What is it?"

Kate's smirk just grew, turning into a predator- like smile. She crooked her finger, beckoning the other hunters to follow her. She led them to the living room where upon entering, Allison and Chris saw Sheriff Stilinski sitting on their couch.

"Guys…" Kate started, placing one arm on each of their shoulders, "We just found the second beta."

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><p><strong>As always, thanks for reading guys! Review please!<strong>


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